Growing Up With Roger
by Clarobell
Summary: Prompt: I'd like to see a fic about Roger. Set in modern times. I'd like to see him being a dad to Ace the best he can in his own silly way. Complete!
1. Year 0

**I'm going to be posting a series of drabbles as a thank you for a friend. Taking her prompt, I'll be writing 21 drabbles to go with every year of Ace's life. Enjoy!**

**Prompt: **I'd like to see a fic about Roger. Set in modern times. I'd like to see him being a dad to Ace the best he can in his own silly way.

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><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<br>****Year 0**

Roger was always the first to try new things. He was an adventurous man, friendly, brave and most of all – a daredevil. He was that crazy guy that jumped off on the count of one instead of three when he tried bungee-jumping. For Roger, life was simple – so long as he was alive, and had his lovely lady, Rouge, he would be happy. At least, that's what he thought until Ace came along.

All the way through Rouge's pregnancy, the dark haired man had prattled on about his desire to have a boy and when at her second scan they found out she was carrying just that, his excitement was evident as he shuffled down the hospital hallway singing the Party Rock Anthem. Now though, as the nurse passed over this tiny little bundle of life into his arms, Roger, the daredevil, felt a knot of terror tighten in his stomach. This fragile little thing was his to care for, his to protect – his son. A surge of emotion washed over him and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He held his baby boy close to his chest and reached a burly hand up to thumb at the downy feathering of hair smattered across the baby's head.

"My boy..."

Ace chose that moment to burst into wails again and Roger let out his own scream of fright and lobbed the baby halfway across the room, where thankfully a nurse had been standing. Rouge looked from her wailing son to her panting, terror stricken husband, mortified. This was definitely going to be interesting.


	2. Year 1

**Drabble number 2. I'm having fun~**

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><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<br>Year 1**

Anybody that saw Ace with Roger could clearly see how much the father adored his son. He paraded him around sat on his arm like a trophy, and Ace seemed to like the attention enough. Roger was watching his beautiful son grow with pride bursting from every pore of his body. He excitedly videoed Ace's first steps (and in the process of backing up to get Ace to walk towards him tripped over the rug and broke the video camera). He tried not to look too disappointed when his efforts to get Ace to say 'Dada' first turned up futile. Every day at breakfast and then again at night when their little family sat together around the table, the moustached man cooed soft urgencies for Ace to repeat the word he desired to hear. The day came when Ace decided to share his first word with the world of course. He lifted a chubby finger of accusation towards his father and Roger's insistent repetitions silenced. With an awed expression, he gazed into his son's eyes and felt the connection there. He was going to say it...!

"Sau... sage!"

Roger sat, gobsmacked, and blinked stupidly at the baby before him for a moment, and then another. His son... called him a sausage? The mere thought was enough to send him into a deep spiral of depressed; it would have been anyway, but Ace whined and the noise seemed to snap Roger from his stupor as he gazed down at his almost empty plate where one single untouched sausage sat innocently... mocking him.

With a resentment he'd felt with no other being, Roger lifted his fork and jabbed it down, skewering the little porker venomously. He took great satisfaction as the sharp tips of the fork busted through the dirty little sausage's skin in what looked a painful manner. Gently then, he offered it to his son, who took it gladly into his hands and nom'd it gratefully.

Roger stood, dejected and with a parting pat to his son's mop of black hair, slumped from the room. Ace, oblivious to his father's distress chewed enthusiastically at the sausage, muttering soft 'Da's' between mouthfuls.


	3. Year 2

**I'll use American words in this drabble, since I'm writing it for one of my American friends.**

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><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<br>Year 2**

One thing Roger had not planned on when factoring a child into his life, has been diapers. The mere thought of changing Ace made the usually bold man squirm and squeal like a pre-pubescent little girl. He couldn't escape the task forever though, and the few times he did have to face those demons lurking in Ace's diaper were enough to cement the idea into his mind that Ace would have to be potty trained. Immediately.

Rouge had been sceptical upon hearing Roger's plans. Ace was a gentle boy that learned fast, but at his own pace; she was willing to give her beloved husband a chance though. The next day found Roger crouched beside the toilet, now equipped with a special potty chair for Ace, attempting to explain the workings of the boy's bladder.

"And so Ace, when you need to do pee-pee or poopy, you come to the potty... err, Mr. Potty. Yeah."

"Why?" soft, confused eyes gazed up into Roger's own dark ones.

"Um... I... h-he..." the dark haired man stuttered out pathetically. He hadn't actually expected to be questioned on his explanation and had expected Ace to accept it like he had most other things. "M... Mr. Potty is hungry."

"Hungry...?" Ace asked softly, and eyed the toilet bowl warily. His chin just reached the top of the bowl and from where he was standing; it looked a _long_way down. "What... does he eat?"

"Pee-pee and poopy." Roger answered with a confident nod. Ace didn't look convinced as he looked between the porcelain poopy eater and his strange daddy. Roger noticed his son's uncertainty concerning the subject of Mr. Potty and decided to further entice the toddler. Slowly, so as not to startle his son, he slipped his hand around the back of the toilet lid and with swift movements, moved it as though it was talking, accompanying it with a gruff voice – his own impression of Mr. Potty.

"_YumyumyumYUMYUM! Give me pee-pee! Poopy! Mr. Potty want PEE-PEE! YUMMY!_"

Ace's uncertain expression quickly morphed into one of sheer horror as he shrieked and fled from the room, wailing for his Mama. Roger was left standing alone with his hand still gripping the toilet lid. He stayed crouched there for a few moments, not quite sure how to respond to his son's reaction.

"But... Ace!" he finally called. "Mr. Potty's _hungry_!"

Ace had night terrors for years.


	4. Year 3

**Time for a little drama to rear its head~**

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><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 3<strong>

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><p>Shortly after his third birthday, Ace contracted meningitis. For a long while, he was a very sick little boy. Roger and Rouge were by no means rich people – he worked as a fisherman and she quit her job in a flower shop when ace was born. With Ace's medicine and hospital care, Roger had to work harder than ever to provide his small family with what they needed. Worst of all was the time he lost with his precious wife and son. Most nights he would come home to find Rouge asleep with her baby in her arms, guilt heavy in his heart as he saw the lines of exhaustion on her tired face. He kissed them both gently, so as not to wake them and silently promised to do whatever it took to give them whatever they needed and clear their debt.<p>

Months later found Ace recovering fast and aching for more his father's attention that had been sorely lacking since his sickness had first developed. Only Roger wasn't there.

"Mama?" Ace called softly, as he tugged the hem of her dress where she stood at the kitchen sink. "When's Daddy coming home?"

Rouge gazed down at her son's sad face and felt the sting of tears in her own. She held out her arms in a silent invitation for a hug and Ace accepted it gladly, wrapping his small arms around her legs.

"Remember I told you, sweetheart? Daddy's in grown-up time-out for a while..."

"But... he's been in timeout since forever...!"

"Baby... Daddy did a mean thing." Rouge struggled to explain. How could you explain to your three year old son that his father had lowered himself to the level of a thug? "He... was very naughty."

As they'd fallen deeper into debt, Roger's fishing job just wasn't denting the growing debt. He'd been quite a wild teen and had mingled with many people most would be terrified to cross paths with. He'd sought out one of his old acquaintances – Edward Newgate, or as he was known in the underworld "Whitebeard" – to ask him for a job. Newgate had been surprised to see Roger, since the man had steered clear of his old lifestyle since committing himself to Rouge. Roger didn't share any details of why he needed the work and Newgate didn't ask. Roger simply had to collect on a few debts owed to the crime lord. Things didn't pan out well for Roger though; he was rusty and ended up being identified. Now he was serving an eight month prison sentence for his act of desperation.

Rouge petted her baby's hair softly as he sighed; it was obvious he didn't understand. She didn't like what Roger had done, but she knew his reasons had been pure. He did it for them.

"Mama...?"

Rouge was pulled from her thoughts by Ace's soft call and smiled at him sadly. He looked so much like his father. "Yes?"

"Can we go see Daddy in time-out?"

Rouge nodded; that was something she _could_do.

Roger waved goodbye to his son and wife as they left from their latest visit. As they slipped out of sight, his grin slowly fell and his arm lowered back to his side. He didn't regret what he'd done. Newgate had assured him he would distribute Roger's pay for the jobs he'd done to Rouge each month so she wouldn't struggle whilst he was away. He saw the understanding in her eyes too, which comforted him. His only regret was the time lost with Ace. He'd barely seen him since his third birthday, and now he was only a month away from his fourth. The little boy also didn't understand why his Daddy couldn't come home and Roger could see the anger in his eyes growing with each visit. He was simply too young to understand.

Roger sighed softly and turned to leave the visitation area. A little while longer and he'd be home. He'd make sure to make it up to Ace and Rouge when he got back.


	5. Year 4

**Ace's suspicions arise...!**

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><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 4<strong>

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><p>"Ray, I just don't know what to do..." Roger muttered to the passed out man beside him at the bar. "My Ace won't talk to me."<p>

Rayleigh was one of Roger's oldest friends. The two had grown up roaming the streets together and getting into trouble, and then eventually left that life behind when they secured their fishing jobs. It was thanks to Rayleigh that Roger had a job to come back to when his prison sentence finished.

"He's just so angry..."

Rayleigh snored loudly from his slumped position on the bar. The two had been there since late afternoon, and it was now well past midnight. Roger though, had too much on his mind to enjoy his usual Saturday drink with his best buddy. Ray snored again.

"Yeah, that's easy for _you_to say. You got no kids."

The silence resumed. Roger counted his pennies and ordered another beer. Money from his job with Newgate had run out weeks ago, and though the debt had been cleared, bills were piling up.

"It's not like I can fork out the money to take him somewhere..."

A loud snore of agreement.

"He's probably starting to notice other kids have got more than him, too..."

A quiet snore of understanding.

"What can I do...?"

Silence answered his reply and with one hefty kick, Roger toppled Rayleigh's stool over, sending the man crashing to the floor.

"Wha' the hell was that for?" Rayleigh burst out as he shot to his feet.

"LISTEN TO MY WOES YOU_ JERKPRICKASSWIPEFACE_!"

The two men stared each other down before they plopped back down at the bar (Rayleigh now standing, leaning against the wooden worktop) and ordered another round.

"Kid still not talking to you?"

"Not a word."

A mouthful of beer.

"Got any money to take him out... camping? Fishing?"

"We're short this month... and next. I was saving to take him somewhere for his birthday."

"Hn."

Another mouthful of beer.

"S'pose he's too young to drink with us?"

"Rouge would kick my ass into next Tuesday."

"Figured."

One more mouthful finishes the pint. They order another.

"You could get him a girl?"

"He still thinks they have cooties."

A mouthful of beer.

"A guy...?"

"_Fuck off! _...my boy's not like that."

A shrug. Another mouthful of beer.

"Let him drive the car?"

"Too short. Can't reach the peddles."

Another pint finished. They order another.

"Maybe you could—" Rayleigh's train of thought was thrown off its rails by a loud, rumbling fart from Roger. The two men stared at each other for a few seconds before they both busted up into loud laughter. They ordered another beer.

Neither men left the bar until the bartender threw them out for want of closing. They staggered home together, bumping off of walls and each other. Roger invited Rayleigh indoors – insisted in fact, since he didn't want his best friend driving home in the state he is. Rayleigh agreed and told Roger he was a sensible man, despite the fact the grey haired man lived at the end of the street ten doors down and didn't own a car.

The next morning, Ace awoke to find his face and hands splattered with shaving foam. He'd wet the bed from one of his hands being dipped in warm water all night, his room was covered in toilet paper and his face smeared with Rouge's make up. In his distress, thinking perhaps the bogeyman, a burglar – or worse! – Mr. Potty had been there in the night, Ace jumped from his bed and landed on the lifeless form of his father and Uncle Ray, passed out and sprawled across his floor, covered in tomato sauce from the late night bacon sandwiches they'd had before bed. Ace's scream could have woken the dead.

As Rouge comforted her poor little baby, she kept a death glare fixed on her husband and neighbour. The two moved carefully, heads pounding and body's aching as they cleaned up Ace's room. Roger had a feeling he would be sleeping on the couch tonight... if he was lucky. With the look Rouge was sending him, he wouldn't be surprised if he would be sleeping in the garden.

Ace tightened his little arms around Rouge's neck. He was starting to wonder is maybe – just maybe – Daddy was in cahoots with Mr. Potty to _get him_.

Roger remained oblivious to his son's suspicions and hoped he could settle this mess at Ace's 5th birthday.


	6. Year 5

**Time for some cute, methinks.**

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><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 5<strong>

Ace bolted upright in bed, panting hard, plagued by yet another night terror. Nervously he glanced around the dark shadows of his bedroom and pulled his blankets up to his chin with a shiver. He wanted his Mama so bad right now... but she was all the way in her bedroom and he'd have to walk past _Mr. Potty _if he wanted to get to her. With a soft whine, he burrowed under the covers and curled into a ball. He wanted to call out for Mama to come sleep with him, but Daddy said Mama was really tired because he kept calling her... but Daddy didn't understand! It was his fault anyways!

"I'm a big boy... I'm a big boy...!" Ace chanted softly, fat tears stinging his eyes. In the eerie silence, he swore he could hear things creeping closer, looming around his bed. He was five now though and had been for a _whole week! _He couldn't call Mama and wake her up...

Ace tensed as the sound of heavy footfalls clomped quietly along the carpeted hallway. He could tell they were trying to be quiet, but this must have been a _huge_ monster, because he could _hear _them coming! A giant hand closed around his tiny body and Ace opened his mouth to scream as the blankets were pulled away.

"Ace... what are you doing up at this time?"

"_Daddy!_"

Ace latched onto the burly figure of his father with desperation Roger wasn't used to. Ace's night terrors were a common thing, but usually his comfort came from Rouge. Tenderly, he closed his hands around ace's chest under his arms and lifted him into his arms. Ace circled his arms around his father's neck and buried his face in his shoulder with soft hiccupping sobs.

Roger rubbed Ace's small back uncertainly. He wasn't used to comforting the small boy as their interactions usually consisted of roughhousing, boy stuff and watching cartoons together. Ace whispered around urgent insistences to Roger about the terror plaguing him and Roger hummed soft understandings and comforts. It was a rare, gentle moment between the two.

As Ace calmed, Roger walked to Ace's bed and settled himself onto it, pulling his baby boy close to his chest in a warm hug as he sat with his back against the wall.

"How come you didn't go find Mama?"

"M...Mama's sleepin'" Ace muttered softly with a sob as he snuggled up to Roger. "She's been tired..."

"...you're a good boy, Ace. I'm proud of you." Roger said softly as he stroked his son's hair back. He too had noticed Rouge's growing fatigue. He'd been working hard to try and get them some savings for when Ace started needing school books, uniforms and whatever else in the coming years. Though his increased workload meant their life was now more comfortable, it came at the sacrifice of time with his family and left Rouge to care for Ace and the house by herself. With Ace's unending energy and constant night terrors, it left the woman feeling drained.

The two sat together in silence for a while, Roger offering silent comfort and Ace soaking in rare security his father could offer. Roger gently pulled ace away from his chest and into his lap.

"You know... mama's... they're good for lots of things."

"Mm." Ace agreed and nodded as he wiped the last of his tears away.

"I'm... not good at doing things that your Mama can..." Roger laughed softly and scratched his head sheepishly. "But... I'm a big guy." He flexed one of his arms, the muscles bulging. "And I'm strong. So if you get scared you just gotta remember, your Daddy's the toughest guy around here, and you're my _son_. I'm not gonna let anybody – man or monster – come get you, okay?"

Ace stared at Roger's bulging muscles in awe. His small hand lifted to touch them as he looked up at his father with a new sense of faith. "You... promise?"

"Promise."

Ace was convinced with the oozing confidence in his father's voice and nodded, accepting his protection. "Will... you stay here tonight?"

Roger didn't answer in world, and instead pulled the covers around them. He kicked off his working boots and pulled Ace into a tight hug. Ace sighed softly and snuggled into the hug. Daddy's arms weren't like Mama's. They weren't soft and they were pretty heavy, but they felt strong and Ace felt safe.

A low squeal sounded from Roger's stomach and Ace felt him chuckle. "How about... we get a little midnight snack – you can eat that last slice of birthday cake from last week!"

Roger wasn't the best daddy, but Ace had to admit, sometimes he really pulled through.


	7. Year 6

**Ace is an inquisitive child.**

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><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 6<strong>

"Daddy?"

"Mm?"

Roger lathered soap into his son's hair, keeping it from his eyes as it ran down his little body and into the bath water. This was one of their favourite times together as father and son. Ace gazed at Roger intently, seriously. Aged six, he was now full of thoughts and questions about the world and the people in it. His relationship with Roger had improved, though it was obvious he was a mama's boy through and through.

"Where's Mama's penis?"

Roger choked and froze in place staring at his little son like a deer caught in the headlights. He knew Ace had bathed with his mother since he was a baby and it wasn't uncommon for her to shower with him in the morning. As Ace grew older it had become less frequent, but Roger didn't see any harm in it. Until now that was.

"Well?" Ace urged, confusion written all over his face. "Where is it?"

"She... she doesn't have one..." Roger stuttered. How the hell was he supposed to explain this? He thought Ace wouldn't start asking this shit until puberty at _least!_

"Why?"

"Because... she's a woman... a girl."

"So?" Ace's head tilted to the side, curious.

"So... girls... they don't have 'em."

Ace looked down at his own private parts curiously. "Why?"

"B... Because... they... don't need 'em."

"What do they do?" Ace asked, eyebrows lifting high onto his forehead, an excited smile stretching across his face. "Does it fire laser beams?"

"That'd be _so_cool...!" Roger exclaimed, and then sobered as he remembered the dire situation. "But no. They... they... make baby's."

"Ehhh?"

"It's true! K-Kinda like a laser beam... heh..."

"But how?"

"Um... well... the Daddy... um, he... p-puts... his..." Roger's usual booming and rowdy voice was now timid and uncertain under Ace's unwavering stare. He could practically feel ace sponging up the information. "You know... his _penis_inside the mama and... p-puts... the baby in."

Ace's lips parted in awe, eyes bulging at this new and wondrous information. Roger grimaced. Rouge was going to kill him for giving an explanation like that.

"So the baby is in the Daddy first?"

"Uh... well, kind of." Roger saw Ace's intense interest and inwardly groaned. Now he'd have to go all the way with this. "Well... baby's... they're half the mama and half the daddy, right?"

Ace nodded in understanding and leaned against the side of the bath. Roger scratched his head and tried to work out how to explain this.

"Well, daddy puts his half inside the Mama... and then when they mix it makes a little baby, but the baby's _so_tiny, that... it's gotta grow first."

"How tiny, Daddy? Was _I_that tiny?"

"You bet!" the moustached man replied, confidence returning with Ace's enthusiasm. "And you grew inside Mama's tummy and then she gave birth to you. That's why mamas and girls don't have penises. They have... a hole instead; so that the baby's can come out."

Ace gaped at his father in awe. He had no idea he was so... so smart! Roger nodded in approval of his own explanation; disaster averted.

"Daddy?"

"Mm?" Roger answered as he made a foam moustache to match his own on Ace's face, satisfied that nothing else his son could ask him could throw him for a loop like his last question.

"What about when a daddy and a daddy try to make a baby? Like Mitchell from school? He has two _daddies_. How was he born?"

Roger blanched. This child would be the death of him.


	8. Year 7

**When life gives you lemons...**

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><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 7<strong>

Ace watched solemnly as they lowered his mother's coffin into the ground. He didn't understand; not at all. He was supposed to be having a baby sister. He heard daddy call her an 'accident', and he knew people died in accidents sometimes, but now Mama was dead and they were putting her in the ground with his baby sister, Anne.

Lots people around him were crying, but he just felt angry – so, so angry. Why did daddy put that horrible baby in mama and make her die? Did he put it in her wrong? The adults wouldn't explain things to him properly like Mama did. They just kept telling him 'sorry' and 'it'll be okay'. It wouldn't be okay! It wouldn't, because Mama was _dead! _It wouldn't be okay because Daddy wouldn't stop crying and wasn't acting like Daddy should!

"So sad..."

"Nobody saw it coming..."

"She was so beautiful."

"Her poor boy is still so young...!"

"Have you seen Roger?"

"I heard he's not coping well."

"Who will care for Ace?"

"How's he taking it?"

"He's been so quiet..."

Ace clenched his little fists and glared at the men shovelling dirt onto his Mama's coffin. He didn't care about what the stupid adults around him were saying. They didn't understand at all! Dead. _Dead_. She was _dead!_

"Roger!"

Ace's head lifted at his Daddy's name and his heart clenched with a confliction of emotions. As his father walked towards him, he felt a sense of relief at the familiar presence and then a surge of hatred and anger. Daddy put the baby inside Mama. The baby was an accident... he probably put it in wrong and now Mama's dead. _Dead_and never coming back. Daddy was behind him now. He felt Daddy's big hands on his shoulders, could hear the people fussing all around them. Daddy was quiet, more quiet than he'd ever seen him before. He didn't care though. He didn't want to talk to Daddy. He wanted Mama... but Mama was dead.

The dirt kept being shovelled and he watched silently with his father. The two stood like silent sentries as thick black clouds that had cast a shadow on the entire day opened up and wept all over Rouge's grave. Still they stood, silent and unmoving despite their friends' protests. The rain soaked them and they welcomed it.

Finally, Roger's hands shifted, hooked under Ace's arms and lifted him into the air, cradling the boy against him as he carried him back to the car. Ace didn't say a word as Roger drove them home. The heavy silence suffocated them as they stepped into the house that would never welcome _her_home again. Roger ran a warm bath and washed Ace first and then showered himself to chase the chill away. They readied for bed without a word passing between them.

That night Roger lay alone in bed, drowning in the grief the loss of his wife brought on and fell asleep to the soft weeping of his poor son as Ace finally released his frustration in stifled tears and hiccupping sobs. Roger knew the boy didn't want him right now, he could feel the resentment in his son. Ace remained curled in a ball until he fell asleep. He didn't bother to call out – Mama wasn't coming any more.


	9. Year 8

**And things get a little worse...**

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><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 8<strong>

Adjusting to life without Rouge wasn't easy. She'd been stripped from their lives so suddenly that neither father nor son has been given a chance to say their goodbyes. Roger worked more hours, labouring out the anger roiling inside of him on the fisherman's boat, and when he got home Ace's ignorance only fuelled his grief.

It had been innocent enough at first. Rayleigh had spent the first few nights after the funeral with Roger, drinking and talking, trying to get his old friend to open up to him. Rayleigh couldn't stay forever though, and soon their routine had been set. Each night Ace returned from school and locked himself in his room. Roger returned from work and drowned his grief in beer and spirits.

Ace's eighth birthday came and went without celebration. He didn't care though, because without Mama here, he didn't have a reason to be happy or to celebrate _being_. Without Mama, he and his father simply existed without really _living_.

Roger's obnoxious snoring signalled to Ace that his father had once again passed out on the sofa. He unlocked his bedroom door and made his way into the room, heading to Roger without hesitation and pulling the man's wages from his pockets. He took a little under half and stuffed what was left back. He knew Roger wouldn't notice the missing money – his hangovers were bad he hardly knew what month of the year they were in. He certainly hadn't remembered Ace's birthday. The freckled boy grabbed up the phone and dialled their local pizza place. He placed his order and hung up the phone before heading to the door. He would buy some candy for after dinner and maybe some toys. Mama wasn't here to tell him not to any more after all.

Roger remained oblivious to it all, and the slippery slope steepened.


	10. Year 9

**A little bit of hope...**

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><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 9<strong>

Ace found himself wandering from his home more and more often. He was a bright boy and didn't stray too far, but one wrong turn on a particularly dark night found the little boy lost in the city with no money and no idea what to do. He walked for what seemed like hours only confusing himself more as he strayed through the maze like city that looked nothing at night like it did in the day.

Finally, when his legs felt too tired and his heart too heavy, he plopped down into the curb of a moderately busy road and pulled his knees to his chest. After the tears he'd spilt for his mother, he didn't think he's ever have enough to cry again, but as the familiar sting grew in the back of his eyes, he bit his lip and swallowed in an attempt to hold them back.

"Oi..."

Ace's head shot up at the close proximity of the voice and he saw a man not a mater from him. He was dressed in thick leather with multiple piercings in his face and ears. His eyes were covered by dark sunglasses despite the lack of sunlight and he was perched on a mean looking motorbike. Ace gaped at the stranger and wondered how the hell he'd been so lost in thought that he'd let a dangerous looking man like this get so close to him.

"You lost, kid?"

"N...No!" Ace stammered and shot to his feet, stumbling back a few steps. "I'm... I'm with... my Daddy... he's... in there!"

The man followed Ace's finger to his randomly selected shop and raised an eyebrow. "In there, huh?"

Ace nodded mutely and hesitantly crept another step back.

"So... your old man... is in a lesbian bar?"

Ace nodded again, having no idea what a "lesbian bar" was, and the man smirked. "You're too well dressed to be a regular street brat. Where do you live, kid? I'll give you a ride home."

Ace's eyes widened slightly at the tempting offer. This guy didn't seem mean or scary... maybe he was a nice scary looking guy?

"My Mama told me never to talk to strangers... especially scary looking ones like you." Ace stated blandly. The man barked out a laugh before he offered a leather gloved hand.

"Well then, the name's Marco. And your name?" he asked, smirking. "Or should I just call you 'brat'?"

Ace's temper flared at the name and he threw caution to the wind as he clasped Marco's hand in his own and shook it firmly. "You can call me Ace. If you call me 'brat' I'll kill you."

"Ho-_ho!_" Marco noised as he tightened his grip on Ace's hand and in one fluid motion, swept the small boy onto the bike in front of him. "Got a bit of an attitude there, _Ace_. Where are we going?"

"Grandline Road. Raftel House."

The engine suddenly revved to life and Ace yelped and grabbed a hold of the metal bars in front of him. The bike jerked into motion and he heard Marco chuckle as he tensed up. Pretty soon though, Ace's reservations washed away and the rumble of the bike and steady motion of the cityscape around them calmed him. The warm chest behind him felt almost comfortable despite the cooled leather and Ace stole a glance up at his saviour.

"Why is all your face pierced?"

"Because it's cool."

"Oh..."

Ace's gaze returned to the road but was startled slightly by his companions own question.

"Why are you so far from home?"

"Because I don't want to be there."

Ace's answer was blunt and final. Marco didn't question it and they fell into their peaceful silence once more. It didn't take long to get back to Ace's home and as they pulled up, Marco lifted him easily from the bike and back down to the pavement. Ace lingered for a moment and Marco raised an eyebrow. "What now, kid?"

"I... I have some money inside... for petrol!"

"No thanks."

Ace fidgeted nervously.

"C... can you walk me in...?"

Marco sighed and after a moment's hesitation, dismounted his bike. "If my bike gets stolen or trashed, I'm gonna kick your ass, kid."

"Okay!" Ace replied, happily and grabbed Marco's hand in his own.

Marco snorted at the boy's enthusiastic response to his threat. They walked inside together and Ace led him to his apartment and invited him inside as his mother had taught him to do. Marco's eyes narrowed at the reek of beer in the air and caught a glimpse of Roger's crashed out form on the sofa.

"That your old man?"

"Yeah, that's my Da—" Ace cut off and licked his lips before continuing. "That my... old man."

"He always like that?"

"When he's not working..."

"Where's your Ma, kid?"

"Dead." Ace bit out the response, fast and cold and Marco picked up on the hurt in the reply.

The blonde man stole a lengthy look around the apartment, lips pulling into a grimace at the mess of the place. Ace watched him silently, his cheeks burning in shame. Marco pulled his hand from Ace's and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a card and after a brief search grabbed a pen from the kitchen worktop and scribbled onto the card.

"Here," he said, as he offered the card to Ace. "If you get lost, or hungry, or... whatever. Call me."

Ace scanned the numbers scrawled onto the card intently, trying to commit them to memory in case he should lose it and nodded. "Does this make us friends?"

"...yeah, sure."

"Can I call you to come play?"

"I don't play, kid."

"Can... I call you to go for another ride some time...?"

The hope in Ace's voice ate away at Marco's resolve and the 'no' that have been on the tip of his tongue dissolved into a curt nod. He grunted as Ace tackled him in a hug and wondered what the hell he was doing.

"Look... I gotta go."

"'kay. See ya soon?" Ace said as he stepped back and smiled up at his new friend.

"Sure."

The leathered man strode from the door and back out to his unharmed bike. He looked up at the floor Ace's apartment was on and after a quick scan of the windows, spotted the small face he had expected to see. Ace waved enthusiastically as their eyes met and Marco lifted his hand in response. He really wondered what the hell he was doing, but one more look at the kids face and he felt it was right. The engine revved and in the next moment he was gone, the rumbling of his motorbike fading and blending with the distant traffic.

Ace rushed to the phone and plucked it from the wall, punching in the numbers already burned into his mind. Marco's voice, slightly agitated, sounded from the other end as he picked up.

"Yeah?"

"Marco, what's a lesbian?"

Marco didn't know what he'd gotten himself into.


	11. Year 10

**And at last he opens his eyes...**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 10<strong>

Kids grow fast.

Roger couldn't help but wonder as he stood at the foot of Ace's bed, when his son got so big. The room was dark and silent and Roger had no idea whether it was late or early when he woke and decided to get another beer. He'd walked past his son's bedroom and caught a glimpse of the sleeping boy sprawled across the bed in pyjamas that looked too small for him. It got him thinking. When was the last time he bought Ace new pyjamas – new clothes? When was the last time he cooked Ace dinner? Took him out? ...hugged him?

Tears stung the back of Roger's eyes as the thoughts and questions raced through his mind. His son, his beautiful baby boy. When had they stopped loving each other? If Rouge could see him now... he'd get his ass kicked for sure. He licked his lips as the familiar burn in his stomach and dryness in his mouth urged him to seek out the six-pack of beer he knew was in the fridge. The moustached man didn't move though, body numbed by the throbbing ache in his heart and soul as he realised how far he'd fallen – how much he'd let Ace down.

No more.

The aluminium can in Roger's hand crunched loudly in the silent house as Roger crushed it. Ace slept on peacefully, blissfully unaware or his father's turmoil. Roger quietly closed his for over and set about cleaning the house. No more would he disappoint his son... his wife wherever she may be.

No more.


	12. Year 11

**A little more Marco, anybody?**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 11<strong>

After almost four years of practically running his own life, Ace did not appreciate it when his father decided to get his act together and start acting like his father again. He's become accustomed to the freedom Roger's alcoholism offered, and had lost all respect for the man he once called Daddy.

Roger had not expected it to be as hard as it was to come off of the booze he'd come to rely on so heavily. Rayleigh had helped him of course, as well as others. What he hadn't expected to see was the huge change in his little boy. This kid... he wasn't his Ace any more.

The first time Marco walked into the house uninvited to find it spotless and Roger _awake_, needless to say he had been shocked. He hadn't had much time to think it over though, as Roger had taken one look at the stranger in _his_ house and promptly decked him hard enough to knock him out. Ace had _not_been pleased. A few hours later found the three sat together in the lounge in an awkward silence as Marco held an icepack to his swollen cheek and Ace glared daggers at his father.

"...so," Roger spoke, finally. His voice was steady. "Just how long have you two known each other."

"None of your business, old man!" Ace piped up, furious at his father's violence towards his best friend.

"Easy kid," Marco soothed, and rested a tattooed hand on Ace's shoulder. "I can defend myself."

"Sure you can! That's why you were out cold for two hours!" Ace snapped back, but reluctantly sat back down, arms folded across his chest.

Marco by now had become accustomed to his little friends mannerisms and moods. Ace was a troubled child; it was obvious, though this Roger guy didn't look like he could see the wood for the trees. All he saw was his precious little boy that he was so proud of. Marco wondered when he'd realise that little boy was dead and this messed up kid was in his place.

"Two years." He finally answered, and then elaborated with a quiet satisfaction. "He got himself lost in the city and unfortunately, his father was too busy getting pissed up to even realise he was gone."

Roger took the blow quietly. He'd faced up to his mistakes and Ace's fury enough times in the past year to realise this wasn't going to be a quick fix.

"Do you always come in uninvited?" the moustached man continued.

"Most times."

"_I _invite him!" Ace snapped again and shuffled closer to Marco. "And it's my house too, old man!"

Roger's heart stung at the name. Where had the little boy that called him 'Daddy' gone to?

"Thank you."

Both Ace and Marco's eyes widened at the sudden gratitude that slipped from Roger's lips. Marco blinked, and wondered if maybe he had a concussion, because five minutes ago, this guy seemed to hate him.

"What?" he asked, wondering if maybe he's imagined it?

"Ace... he loves you. I can see that. You've... been the father I haven't. I've let him down." Roger confessed, biting out each word reluctantly. "You... look like a crack head street punk... but I can tell you've got a good heart if he defends you like that. You must have taken good care of him, so... thanks."

"Uh... no problem."

The awkward silence settled amongst them once again. They sat for a while, the silence thick and heavy around them until Roger stood suddenly.

"Tomorrow," he began, and fixed his gaze on Ace. "You go back to school."

"What?" Ace yelped. He'd stopped attending classes shortly after he's met Marco, replacing study with motorbike rides. "You can't make me do that!"

"I can and I will. Believe it boy. You're my son whether you like it or not and you're going back to school."

"Like hell I am, old man!"

"WATCH YOUR MOUTH!" Roger bellowed the suddenness and power in his father's usual soft, deep voice stunning Ace to obedience. Roger heaved a sigh to calm himself and wondered how to broach the next subject. "Your... _friend_can visit you on weekends and can call you before nine on weekdays."

"What?" Ace yelped out again, face reddening with a mixture of fury and shame. Who was this man who had spent the last few years drinking and doing _nothing_ to tell _him_what to do? "Fuck off!"

Rogers's fists clenched in anger at his son's disrespect and his glare turned on Marco. "Your influence?"

Marco shrugged, unconcerned. He swore around the kid – so what? If Roger had done his part Ace wouldn't even know him.

"Your mother would spin in her grave if she heard you talk like that." Roger muttered.

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!" Ace yelled, and stood, storming towards his father. He grabbed the man's collar, unafraid. "IT'S YOUR FAULT SHE'S DEAD AND **I HATE YOU**!"

Roger grabbed the back of Ace's shirt collar and hoisted him from the ground as he stood, holding him at arm's length. Ace yelled and flailed his arms and legs violently, trying to harm his father in any way he could to no avail. Marco stood, ready to defend his small friend, but quickly found himself pinned to the wall, a large hand around his throat, dark eye boring into his own.

"I appreciate all you've done for Ace, but _I _am his father. He can see you under _my_ terms, not his own, because he is a _child_in case you haven't noticed." Roger hissed out, and with one flick of his powerful arm, tossed Marco towards the front door. "Now get out. It's Thursday. You can see him on Saturday and call him through the week."

Marco stumbled to the front door and turned, glaring at the older man, but he knew he was no match and that this guy in his own fucked up way was trying to do his best by Ace. The kid's cries for him and violent thrashing made his heart ache. Over the years they'd grown close and he too, only wanted what was best for Ace. Right now, fighting Roger would only make things worse and so he turned and left like he was told.

Roger took Ace to his room and dropped him on the bed. Ace immediately turned, attacking his father, kicking punching and screaming obscenities. Roger didn't react, and when Ace had finally tired himself, he spoke.

"I know how you... hate me." He admitted. "I know I've let you down... and you don't like what's happening."

Ace remained silent and refused to look at him.

"But you're a _child_Ace. You're my child. It's my job to take care of you."

Ace scoffed.

"I know... I haven't done such a great job so far... but this is where it changes, Ace."

They stood at a standoff. Ace refused to answer and Roger refused to back down, and so Ace pulled his covers over his head and ignored him. When he heard his father's heavy footfalls clomp quietly from the room, he flopped back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. He was so full of anger; he just didn't know what to do and somewhere deep down inside of him, as much as he hated to admit it, he felt a flutter of excitement and happiness.

"Stupid old man..." he muttered weakly to himself.

His 'Daddy' was back...


	13. Year 12

**Another new friend?**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 12<strong>

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN?"

Ace's roar caused the pigeons resting on his windowsill to burst into the air in fright. The young boy clutched the phone in his hand tighter, teeth ground together in frustration.

"That's bullshit and you know it, Marco!"

Ace's face reddened as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line.

"Did my old man put you up to this?" he snapped, eyebrows twitching as he received a negative response. "Then who?"

Ace's lips twisted into a frown.

"Fuck you!"

"Watch your language, Ace!" came Roger's stern call from the lounge.

The young boy jabbed a button on the phone and ended the call as he resisted the urge to pout at being scolded... again. That's all that seemed to happen nowadays. Things had been rocky for a good while after Roger implemented his new rules against Ace and there had been many occasions where the boy had run off or disobeyed. By now though, a year on, they had been set in stone and Ace was starting to realise, his old man... his... _Daddy _wasn't going to back down. To top it all off, Marco didn't want to come see him every weekend anymore because he thought it would be 'good for him' to mix with kids his own age. That's where the problems started.

Since returning to school and mingling with his peers, Ace had discovered, he wasn't exactly a kid any more. He people around his were concerned with play and homework. His thoughts rested on who would cook dinner tonight, him or his father, or what needed washing when he got home. Between the two of them, Roger and Ace made a pretty good team keeping their house clean, and though Ace had to show his own father how to use the washing machine, he appreciated the help. Things were going fine, almost – _almost_– good! Now Marco had to go and pull a stupid stunt like that.

Ace tried to calm himself. After all, it wasn't like Marco was gone; he just wouldn't be visiting as often. With a heavy sigh, the dark haired boy flopped back onto his bed and glared at the ceiling like it was all his fault. The next thing he knew, there was a knock at his bedroom door that roused him from the light doze he'd fallen into. He scrubbed at his eyes and glared weakly at his father in the doorway.

"What?"

"You have a visitor." Roger said, his voice charmed with a soft, pleased lilt. He ushered a blonde boy into Ace's room with a grin. "You boys have fun!"

The new boy blinked, looking a bit bewildered as Roger left him alone with Ace. "Uh... our science teacher asked me to bring you some old homework, since I live close by."

"Huh..." Ace noised and pushed himself upright, looking the kid up and down. "What's your name?"

"Sabo." The boy replied and moved forward, handing the papers clutched in his hand to Ace. "You... wanna hang out?"

"What do you like to do?" Ace asked sceptically.

Sabo shrugged. "Play video games, go out, skate... lots of stuff."

Ace felt heat rising in his cheeks as he forced out the next sentence, biting out each word spitefully. "I don't have any video games, a skateboard or money to go out."

Sabo blinked. "You can use mine. My parents are rich." He explained with a shrug, as though it was no big deal. "Or we can just watch TV... whatever."

Ace scrutinised this kid for a few seconds before he shrugged. "Whatever." He finally answered. "Let's go to your house. I wanna get away from my old man."

The two boys headed out, Ace muttering a dull goodbye to his father and a promise to be home on time. He didn't quite know what to make of this 'Sabo', but he figured he'd have some fun, and maybe steal a few things if this guy was rich. His old man kept a closer eye on his money now, after all.


	14. Year 13 Paired

**From here on out, two chapters will be posted for each year, one paired,a nd one unpaired.**

**Pairings in the chapter:  
>SaboxAce<br>MarcoxOC (mentioned only)**

These pairings are subject to change in following chapters.

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 13<strong>

"You wanna make out?"

Ace's eyebrows knitted, though his gaze never strayed from the 50" flat screen television in Sabo's bedroom. His fingers tapped furiously at the controller of the game he was playing as he mulled over the question. Having spent time with Marco and practically raised himself since the age of seven, Ace wasn't stupid. He understood about love and lust. He's met gay men and women – he'd seen Marco with another man once or twice, too.

The young teen had become fast friends with Sabo and for the past year, the two had been practically inseparable. Ace still resisted his father's house rules and now found escape in Sabo, roaming the streets with the blonde boy or spending time at his luxurious house. Surprisingly, Roger didn't seem too bothered by Ace's ignorance, and persistently encouraged Ace to complete his school tasks and behave himself. Ace however, now a teenager, strived for the freedom he experienced with Marco. He rebelled against Roger's rules and contradicted his father many times just for the sake of disagreeing with the burly man. He also often took advantage of the fact that Roger was often physically exhausted after work.

Thing were far better than they had been a couple of years ago, and as Ace matured, he was starting to see the admiral qualities in his father, even though they did seem to be few and far between. He was also forming his own opinions though, and all new arguments sparked to life between them as he disagreed with Roger's.

His thoughts drifted back to Sabo's question. Did he want to make out? He'd never kissed anybody before, and it did look kind of gross, but it did also look kind of fun. He knew his old man was homophobic – not that Roger had anything against gays – his pride was so strong for himself and his son and he thought men should be manly. He saw being gay as less than manly. The thought made Ace sneer. He disagreed with his father's opinion. If his Mama was here, he expected she'd encourage him to follow his heart, and probably be gleeful at the prospect of going handbag shopping with her beloved son. The thought brought a fond smile to his face. He missed her.

"Well?" Sabo urged.

Ace tipped his head back, slouched on an oversized beanbag, and paused his game. He stared blankly at Sabo for a few seconds, silently delighting in the other boys nervous fidgeting. Did he want to make out? If nothing else, it'd freak the hell out of his old man.

"Sure."


	15. Year 13 Unpaired

**So, after some drama on , I decided I would write two chapter for each year here on out; one with pairings and one without. You can read one, the other or both. Each chapter will be listed as paired or unpaired. Don't like, don't read :)**

**Concerning these new unpaired versions. Rather than branching off in a different direction, they will sit beside the paired versions, existing in the same timeline and story.**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 13 (Unpaired)<strong>

Sabo turned out to be a more valuable friend to Ace than he could have ever imagined. Though Ace had originally planned to just use the rich boy, he'd quickly grown fond of Sabo and built a trust he wasn't used to having with other people. They played and got into mischief as boys tend to do, but even as Ace got into bouts of trouble, Roger seemed more content with his son hanging around a boy his own age.

After spending most of the year with his new friend, Sabo's curiosity was starting to get the better of him. Where did Ace go when he wasn't with him? He knew his troubled friend didn't have any other buddies from school. They weren't the type to beat around the bush, so when process of elimination failed him, Sabo deduced that Ace must have a friend he'd never met before. He decided to ask.

The question came as a bit of a surprise to Ace. Marco wasn't bothered about what he did when they weren't hanging out and never asked. His father was often tired or didn't understand him, so when Sabo showed an obvious curiosity (and if Ace wasn't mistaken, a pouting jealousy) at being kept in the dark about something, he was left with a little dilemma. Should he tell him the truth and possibly scare him off, or should he lie and risk Sabo finding out anyways?

Over the years of knowing Marco, he's met many of the man's associates and friends. One he held a particular fondness for was old man Newgate, or as he'd been told to call him "Pops". He knew who Newgate was and he knew what he did, but that didn't scare him. Pops had taught him, lectured him and looked after him. He gave Ace gifts and paid for things whilst his old man sat on the sofa and drank himself to oblivion. Even though Roger had got his act together, he didn't stop his visits to Pops. He considered the man more of a father than his own.

So what to do now? Sabo was sitting there looking ridiculous with his curious-annoyed face and lip slightly jutted out in a pout and Ace bit back the urge to tease him about it. He glanced his best friend once over and felt his lips twitch up with a bold excitement he usually only felt on a motorbike or pulling a crazy stunt. His heart raced as he made the decision to tell Sabo everything and as soon as he opened his mouth the words spilled out like water. He told him about Newgate, about his old man, the drinking, and his mother. He told him about Marco and the bike, taking care of himself – he even told him about Mr Potty. Once he'd started it was like there was no off switch. His emotions didn't spill with his words as his tone stayed steady as though he were reading a paper from his English class.

Sabo listened intently, awed, shocked and sick as Ace spilled his cold heart out in front of him and let it sit between them. When the words finally stopped, they sat in silence and Ace feeling of excitement quickly dissolved into dread as he realised how much he'd just revealed, all the shit he'd unloaded on his best friend. He waited for Sabo's reaction nervously, trying his hardest not to show his emotions. Sabo seemed to chew things over slowly, absorbing the information and mulling it over. Finally he lifted his eyes to meet Ace and smiled.

"Cool."

Ace blinked once, then again. His whole mind went blank at that nonchalant comment directed at the mass of guts that was his life spilled between them. Finally he barked out a sharp laugh that ended in a relived chuckle and grabbed Sabo in a fierce hug.

"Jerk."

Sabo grinned.


	16. Year 14 Paired

**Thank you for your patience with this chapter. I don't normally get them out as quick as i did with the last lot and I think the prospect of writing double chapters was a little daunting and I completely lost the mood to write. Hopefully now that I've started again I'll see it through to the end.**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 14 (Paired)<strong>

It wasn't that Ace was trying to make Marco jealous – oh no! – because he had Sabo and though what they did wasn't exactly what he'd call a relationship, having a hard fuck up again a wall, or worktop (and in his more adventurous times, cinema & fast food bathroom) was great. It was fantastic in fact.

It hadn't taken long after their first kiss for curiosity to push them into exploring each other's bodies. He was two thirds through his fourteenth year, and had been sexually active for most of it. He and Sabo were best friends – fuck buddies. There was a bond between them, sure, but Ace found himself craving more. He didn't know when his affections for Marco had started, but somehow it had developed into a full blown crush; he hadn't realised until it was too late.

He often found himself clenching his eyes closed in his romps with Sabo, imagining he was with the biker. It was when Marco's name slipped from his tongue on such occasion that thing grew complicated. To say Ace was embarrassed would be an understatement. He sat cross-legged, unresponsive and tense with his head bowed as Sabo wiped them both off with a damp cloth. The blonde could see the fiery blush burning the skin of Ace's ears as he went about the task. He wasn't angry – far from it. What he and Ace did was casual and fun – an escape from their realities.

"Why don't you ask him out?" he asked, his soft voice piercing the silence like shattering glass. Ace flinched.

"He's old enough to be my old man."

"Pssh! Like that'll stop you." Sabo snorted and flopped back onto the ruffled sheets. "He probably thinks you're hot anyways."

Ace's shoulders twitched at the comments, and peeked around at his friend. "What makes you say that?"

"Because you're hot." The blonde answered with an easy grin. Ace returned it with an uncommon shy smile and rubbed the back of his head.

"Idiot." He mumbled, thought the smile remained.

"You're gonna ask him though, right?" Sabo asked.

"No."

"Riiiight?"

"No..."

"Ace."

"Tch, maybe."


	17. Year 14 Unpaired

**Thank you very much to those who commented on the last chapter reminding me that the rating (on ) was too low. I'd completely forgotten about the low rating I'd started out with and it's now been changed to a T.**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 14 (Unpaired)<strong>

The awkwardness that settled in the rift between Roger and Ace never seemed to fully dissipate. As desperately as Roger tried, Ace never seemed willing to completely forgive him for neither Rouge's death nor the suffering afterwards. The burly man tried hard to measure a sensible level of control over his maturing son's life to keep him on track, but Ace never seemed to appreciate the leniencies his father offered in their routines. Whilst Roger was at work, the teen had the run of the house and everything outside of it, as far as his young and cocky mind was concerned; when Roger came home, it was a different matter entirely.

In recent years, Ace had learned not to push his father's buttons too hard. He'd witnessed a fight between his Uncle Rayleigh and his old man not many months ago and for the first time he'd seen the gentle giant that was his stupid old man turn into something vicious and violent. Rayleigh had been urging Roger to start a new relationship, worried for his long time friend – it had already been 7 years since the loss of Rouge after all. Roger would have none of it and when Silvers wouldn't drop the subject their voices raised first and fists second. Rayleigh had gone down like a sack of potatoes after a short bout, and Ace had quietly slipped into his bedroom. To his surprise, the next morning they were laughing and teasing at the breakfast table as though nothing had happened. If Ray wasn't sporting a nasty looking black eye and his father a split lip, he would have thought it all some crazy dream.

Since that day, Ace reined his temper with his father a little more; took out his frustrations on his old man's gym – something he's treated himself to a couple years back. When his father came home, he knew he was no longer king of the castle – not until he left for work again the next day. They still argued as any dysfunctional family did and Ace still defied Roger on the small things, but that day has spiked a feeling of fear in him. He'd always seen his old man as powerful; he was built like a super hero and had been since as long as Ace could remember, but the possibility had never entered his head that that strength might one day be directed at him. If Roger could turn on his best friend, it meant he could turn on his own son, after all.

All these thoughts swirled around Ace's mind as he held a weighted barbell high above his head, arms shuddering with exhaustion, only just starting to show the effects of his twice daily work outs. No, he would not push his father's buttons too hard or challenge his authority too much – not until he was sure he'd win, anyways.

Roger remained oblivious, pleased that the relationship between he and his son finally seemed to be settling into place.


	18. Year 15 Paired

**I hope this chapter was fast enough for you guys. Hopefully next one will be up soon!**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 15 (Paired)<strong>

Ace walked through the door, whistling merrily as he hung his coat on the rack and sauntered into the kitchen.

"Ace, is that you?" came Roger's voice from the lounge.

Ace half turned, a perplexed look plastered on his face. His old man was home early. "Uh, yeah."

"Sabo's up in your room. He came by about half hour ago."

"Oh, cool!" Ace answered and returned his attention to the sandwich he was preparing. Sabo was just the person he wanted to see. "Oi, Pops, how come you're home so early?"

"Ah... hehe..." Roger's voice seemed sheepish. Ace could practically picture his scratching his head. "I got laid off."

"Ehh?"

"It's no trouble, son!" Roger piped up, his hulking figure appearing in the doorway. "There's no need for old hands like me in the fishing game when they have the young blood that'll work for less. I'll find a new job."

Ace wasn't convinced, and felt that familiar rage bubble up in his chest. What had his stupid old man done to get the sack? Times were hard economically, but he'd worked for the company for well over a decade – surely they wouldn't just let him go like that? No... he had to have done something stupid like drank on the job or fell asleep. Now they were going to be even _poorer_!

"Whatever." The teen answered and grabbed up his finished sandwich. He pushed past Roger and headed for his room. Roger swallowed the disrespect and left it to settle in his stomach beside the grief and regret.

Ace wandered into his bedroom and smirked as he saw Sabo napping on his bed. He bit into the sandwich, holding it between his teeth like a dog with a paper and crawled onto the bed, straddling the other teen. Sabo's eyes drifted open, an easy smirk stretching his lips.

"Yo." He greeted, and took a bite out of the other end of the sandwich. Ace's eyes narrowed indignantly, but he let the blonde get away with it. He pulled the sandwich from his lips and took a bite himself. "So," Sabo continued. "How did it go?"

Ace eyed his friend critically for a moment, chewed his mouthful thoughtfully and when he decided he'd made him wait long enough, swallowed and answered, "He said 'not a chance in hell'."

"EHH?" Sabo noised and balled his fist in anger. "What an asshole! How can you be so calm about this? Marco's an asshole! He's a... a fuckin' asshole! You're hot and sexy and buff! How could he say no?"

"He said," Ace continued, in a calm, smug tone. "'We can fuck around when you're 16, and no sooner' and told me to go do my homework."

Sabo blinked stupidly for a moment and cocked his head. "So... he said yes?"

"Mhm." Ace answered as he chomped on another bite of his sandwich.

"...you think he'll let me join in?"

Ace choked.


	19. Year 15 Unpaired

**See? It's not all bad all the time.**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 15 (Unpaired)<strong>

There were times, between the tension and anger when Ace found joy in Roger's company. As much as he hated to admit it, he shared many traits with his old man and where a lot of those traits clashed against one another, there were also times when the boys got on like a house on fire.

Sabo was witness to one of these times and it got the blonde teen thinking. As he watched the two, father and son, arms slung over each other's shoulders and drunk as farts, he couldn't help but smile sadly and wonder if maybe this is what it would have been like if Rouge was still around. Though he'd never met the woman, Ace always spoke of her in the highest regard and it embedded a deep sense of respect for the deceased woman in his mind.

Ace took another swig of his beer and continued his chatter with his 'old man'. He was still 15, not old enough to drink, but Roger felt he had no place to reprimand his son for doing something he did himself at his age. Sabo liked that about Roger – he was a fair man. He just wished Ace could look past his anger more often and see that.

The night wore on with song and laughter and even a few tears. They shared old memories made promises they certainly wouldn't remember in the morning and when both were snoring obnoxiously, Sabo covered them with a blanket and let himself out quietly.


	20. Year 16 Paired

**Okay people, it's the one you've been waiting for. *slaps down MarcoxAce* Enjoy.**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 16 (Paired)<strong>

Sex with Marco was nothing like sex with Sabo. With Sabo they took turns on bottom, it was fun and fast, all about pleasuring each other. With Marco it was rough and hard, carnal with grunts and sweat and sometimes blood. Ace quickly found though that sex with Marco was like a drug – addictive and oh _so __**good**_! The blonde biker would plough him into the mattress ruthlessly (or against whatever other top they did it on/against) and Ace would melt like butter under his burning, skilful fingers.

Between Sabo and Marco, Ace found himself never without some form of release and pleasure. Deep inside of him though, there was still that quiet yearning for something more. He pushed it away and squashed it underneath the rock of emotions already fighting for attention, unattended in his heart.

Besides all of that there was also a dirty feeling of guilt. For as long as he could remember, his father had bragged about how 'manly' and 'tough' his son was. He's gloated that Ace had inherited his good looks (yeah right!) and would be a heartthrob amongst the ladies. Though this was in fact very true, Ace found himself lacking any desire to take any of the slim, gorgeous women and girls that threw themselves at him. Their vivacious curves and voluptuous bosoms did nothing to arouse any desire in him and it had become plainly obvious that his preference lay with those of his own sex. He hid this fact from his father however. He didn't know if it was fear of rejection, fear of disappointment, or fear that the man might lash out at him should he find out, but it was _fear_of some kind that kept his relations with Marco and Sabo and those in between a secret.

Alongside the fear bubbled a deep anger. Why should he be ashamed of what he was? Why should he hide his feelings for those he cared for just because his old man was a homophobe? It simmered quietly underneath his cocky exterior, deep-rooted and silently explosive, like a caged animal. It even frightened him sometimes, how the rage got a hold of him, but he controlled himself as best he could and continued training and fucking in secret. By the time his father found out, he planned to be strong enough to take him on if he had any objections.

"Oi," Marco muttered, voice laden with sleep as he blindly groped under the sheets for his partner and pulled him close. "Why are you not asleep?"

"Thinkin'."

"Tch," the biker stretched and languidly crawled his way on top of Ace like an oversized cat pinning its prey. The moonlight highlighted his muscled body through the window, accentuating his shadows with an eerie glow. Ace marvelled at how different he looked without his leathers "If you're awake enough to think you're awake enough to fuck." He said with a predators smirk.

Ace returned it with an easy smile. He could always count on Marco to screw the troublesome thoughts right out of him. They shared a deep, lazy kiss, lips meshed together and tongues dancing together in the heat of their mouths.

They finally parted, breathless and Ace replied. "Guess so."


	21. Year 16 Unpaired

**Change is brewing.**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 16 (Unpaired)<strong>

Ace had never been one for prayer. He didn't believe the adults when they told him his Mummy went to heaven, and he didn't believe that an almighty 'God' ruled over his existence. Ace was the kind of guy that believed you paved out your own destiny through the decisions you make. Right now though Ace didn't care what might be out there – if they existed he was praying – _begging _– for their help. Just for once, he needed whatever bad karma that had settled around him to dissipate and cut him some slack.

The hospital chair was hard and uncomfortable and the waiting room smelled of tears and suffering. Sabo sat on one side of his friend and Marco on the other, the trio in a palpable silence only broken when one of the blondes moved to relieve themselves or fetch something to eat or drink for Ace. They'd lost track of the time in that small, suffocating room; there was a clock on the wall, but none cared to take notice. Marco's and Sabo's attention stayed fixed on their suffering friend and Ace's mind was whirling with what his future may hold and how his life may change by the end of tonight. Roger had been in an accident; a bad one.

Ace knew somewhere in the back of his mind that his father's new job had perils to it – but then didn't the fishing job? And working for Whitebeard? Roger had always been so indestructible in his son's eyes and now reality had collapsed on top of him all too heavy and turned his world upside down. With bills mounting and tension growing in their household, the pressure for Roger to find a job had been phenomenal. Ace had found out through Rayleigh that his father's fishing firm had gone bust, and so both he and Roger were out of work. They lived in hard times with an unstable economy and jobs were scarce. It had been a stroke of luck that Roger found work in a construction site. He'd offered to help carry a heavy piece of equipment and shouldered alone what three men couldn't together. To Roger it was nothing – not compared to the burdens he's carried daily on his shoulders. The site manager had seen his uncanny strength and offered him a job on the spot.

The money was good, but between their stacked bills and Ace's open, expecting hand, it was quickly devoured. Roger worked long hours, and with Ace's lingering tendency to dip his father's pockets when he found himself short of cash, they rarely paid off.

Now here Ace sat, doubled over with fingers intertwined left to right in desperate prayer. His knuckles bleached white with each hands grip on the other and he mumbled a mix of apologies, promises and regrets to nobody in particular. He was sixteen now after all; if his father died here tonight, he would truly be on his own. Sabo still lived at home and Marco, though always there for him, was not the hero he once idolized him as. He was older now, wiser and saw for himself the mixture of monster and saint that was his biker friend. It didn't affect their relationship, but he was not a person Ace would care to live with constantly or whose temper he'd like to test.

Suddenly everything Roger did to him rushed to slap him in the face, over and over. Ace swallowed thickly as the sickness in his stomach made it lurch each time swift footsteps clicked past the door. He wondered if maybe vomiting all over this room wasn't such a bad idea – it would at least add some colour to the white wash walls.

"You okay, buddy?" Sabo asked as he rubbed small circles in his friends back; an attempt to soothe. Ace nodded minutely, mutely. His mumbled prayers and apologies fell silent, drifting into his mind like a sacrificial chant. Perhaps sacrificing the anger he had clutched to his heart for so long would be enough of a sacrifice so that he would wake up and find that this was all a dream – that his old man hadn't been crushed under a ton of steel debris.

The door suddenly opened without warning and all three heads whipped up hard enough to make their necks ache. Ace, eyes wide and mouth ajar forgot to breathe for a moment. Those few seconds it took the doctor to speak, understand settled on Ace like a heavy blanket. His father... his old man... his _Daddy _was going to die... just like his Mama so many years ago. It was the _exact. Same. Feeling_. It settled in his stomach like a rock and tore at his heart like the jagged metal that had torn Roger's skin. It was as though all the love he'd felt for Roger in those first years of his life as has been sponged into his heart and trapped there by the hatred from the loss of his mother. Now at the realisation he was about to lose his father too, that love spilled out of the torn remains of his heart and enveloped him in a pain that left him breathless and numb.

"Portgas D. Ace?"

The doctor's voice was soft, sympathetic. It was a woman, Ace noted. Yeah, they often sent women to break bad news, didn't they? He stood without thinking and she focussed her attention on him after a brief glance at his companions.

"Can we speak in private?"

Any other time Ace would have protested. Sabo and Marco were his best friends – his lovers – his family. Right now though, the numbness washed away any fight in him. He felt as though he was outside his body, dreaming. This couldn't be real. He followed her nonetheless.

This couldn't be happening.


	22. Year 17 Paired

**The tables turned.**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 17 (Paired)<strong>

Ace's breath came in ragged gulps as he rolled away from Marco and onto his back. Sex was his best escape from reality nowadays and Marco was always willing to help Ace in his truants from life. Their breaths slowly calmed and Marco reached over to the bedside and grabbed a cigarette from the packet sitting there. He didn't bother to offer Ace one and lit his own. The two lay in silence for a while as Marco took one drag after another. When the cig was half spent he offered it to Ace and the freckled teen took it with a soft mutter of thanks.

"So, was it what you expected?" Marco asked suddenly, and Ace glanced towards him with sleepy eyes.

"What?"

"You know what." The blonde answered and sucked on his tongue piercing. "You couldn't wait to work for pops as a kid, so is it all it's cracked up to be?"

"...I can't complain." Ace replied.

He was careful to keep his tone neutral. After the accident with his Dad, Ace had suddenly found himself with nobody to care for him, no money to pay rent and no money for food. Sabo helped him for a while, but that help had soon run dry and Sabo had wound up in nearly as much trouble as himself. As long as Ace had known his Sabo, the other teen's parents had been strict, commanding, but otherwise completely uninterested in their son's life. Sabo was a free spirit in Ace's eyes and his parents wanted him to act like a social soldier and cage his spirit behind the rules and regulations of higher society.

Ace knew his friendship with his friend was frowned upon by the others parents. Ace was poor, crude – dirt on their shoes. He held no delusions on the rare occasions when he did meet the pair and they feigned a welcome demeanour. It was all a show for the public and he had no doubt that Sabo had paid for that one behind closed doors one way or another; he never once spoke about it though. So long as he followed most of their rules and lived up to the minimum of their expectations, things were okay. Only, last month Sabo's parents caught them sleeping together.

Sabo had been given the choice of giving up Ace as a friend and continuing his life of wealth and comfort, or forfeiting it all for his friend and lover. The decision for Sabo was easy and he packed what he could before they threw him out and he moved in with Ace to help him pay the rent. Marco had quickly set them up with Whitebeard. They were strong, young and stupidly brave, just the kind of people that belonged in Edward Newgate's gang.

"Are you still having nightmares?"

Marco's question drew Ace from his thoughts and he blinked back to reality. The cigarette had burnt to the butt and extinguished itself. Ace glanced to Marco, and made a mental note of the gentle concern behind the nonchalance in his tone.

"Yeah."

There was no point in lying. Marco had known him for years and could read him like a porn mag. He knew what was fake and what was real. Working for Newgate had seemed like a dream when he'd been a child. Beat up bad guys for money, only now he realised it wasn't always bad guys they were hurting. Sometimes it was just people who hadn't been so lucky with money or life; people like his Dad. He didn't like it, but he couldn't complain, because Newgate paid them well and took care of them.

"Look, I gotta get home, Marco." Ace said and sat up in the bed with a languid stretch. Marco slinked behind him and ran a callous hand across his knotted shoulders. He kneaded the area with scarred knuckles. Ace sat for a while and enjoyed the rare, tender treatment as Marco worked out the tension in his shoulders, but obligation reminded him of his need to be home. He reluctantly pulled free from the massage and turned, packing a cheeky kiss to Marco's mouth lingering to suck on bottom lip. "Thanks."

Marco smirked. "Any time."

Ace dressed and headed for the door.

"Oi," Marco called. "Tell your old man I said hi."

"He'd probably like it if you came and said it yourself..." Ace replied, sadly. The accident had left Roger with a shadow of his old life, the mighty hulk of a man now sickly, weak and bedridden. It would be a long time before he could build his strength to anything near to healthy.

"Maybe..."

Ace knew Marco wouldn't. Roger, he'd quickly learned, had been a legend in his own time under Whitebeard's name. Nobody wanted to see him as he was now, not through pity and Ace knew Roger wouldn't welcome that attention, so he dropped it.

"Sabo's getting better at helping Dad, so maybe I can stay a little longer next time." Ace said, though he knew he wouldn't. Roger's care right now was intimate and embarrassing. He had only started feeding himself last week and Ace had already cost Sabo his fortune and didn't plan on lumbering him with the care of his Dad, though he knew Sabo wouldn't mind.

Ace stepped out of the door and set off on a brisk walk for home. It was time he grew up.


	23. Year 17 Unpaired

***choked up* ...**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 17 (Unpaired)<strong>

Ace felt that familiar numbness wash over him once more. It wasn't like that day ten years ago, where the heaven opened and spilled heavy tears across the entire graveyard for his mother. No, today was bright, sunny and happy. It wasn't right, Ace thought. Sabo was dead and the world seemed happy about it. It made him feel sick as he stared at the polished wooden casket as it was lowered into the ground and he swallowed back the bitter taste of bile rising in his throat. Sabo was dead, and this time he had nobody to blame but himself.

It wasn't supposed to have been dangerous. A simple trade – drugs for money. They had the money and the suppliers had the goods. The only thing they hadn't factored in was the smart mouthed cocky fuck they brought with them. Doflamingo was an infamous man, head of the local drug trade in their city. He was amongst the names up there such as Whitebeard and Ace's own father, only his power was harnessed through fear rather than respect. Everybody knew he was bat-shit crazy and would kill somebody if they looked at him in a way he didn't like, and so Ace had known to be on his best behaviour on this job. It was just the three of them, Ace, Marco and Sabo. It shouldn't have happened. All they had to do was check the goods and hand over the money.

Now Sabo was dead. He was gone. Forever. All because some cocky shit thought he was something big. But then, Ace had been the one to take the bait. He's reacted to the fuck's goading and his infamous temper had flared like a lit match in a barrel of gasoline. What had even happened? Name calling? A grope of his ass? Ace couldn't remember what set him off, but once he's gone, he'd lost it completely. All the anger soaked in his heart towards his father had lost its direction since Roger's accident, and when that asshole opened the floodgates, the years of fury and hate and grief all came rushing out, unleashed on Doflamingo's lackey. He vaguely recalled Sabo's and Marco's frantic cries as they attempted to pull him from the other man, then a gunshot. Then Sabo was bleeding and smiling that understanding smile as Ace held him in his arms, then to his chest in a frantic attempt to keep his life from escaping. He stayed like that long after Sabo was still and cold, frantically grasping the remnants of water long slipped through his fingers.

Now he was numb. The casket was buried and he felt a nostalgic sense of déjà-vu as his father came to collect him from the funeral like he had when his Mama died. Roger was still weak, terribly so, but his life was no longer in danger, and he could get about on his own and take care of himself from the most part. Rayleigh helped him get out and about, and the grey haired man had brought him there now. Ace felt his father's large hands on his shoulders and swallowed as they gave him a gentle squeeze. Ace's own trembling hand lifted silently, grasping his father's fingers. Their skin mirrored a rainbow of bruises and lacerations, scabbed and fresh. It was amazing the strength a father could muster for his son, Ace realised. Roger had connections after all, and Sabo wouldn't be the only one buried under the cold dirt. His name had been 'Bellemy'. It had been easy enough to find him, even easier to wipe his scummy existence from the face of their world. An eye for an eye, so they say.

Roger coughed, a rattling noise that ended in a wheeze and Ace was reminded of his father's ill health. He shouldn't even be out of bed after his exertion a few nights previous.

"Thank you..." Ace whispered, whether to his father or his friend he didn't know. He turned and Roger roughly thumbed away the tears Ace hadn't realised were flowing down his face. Together they made their way back to the car where Rayleigh waited.

Life goes on.


	24. Year 18 Paired

**Enter Luffy.**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 18 (Paired)<strong>

Ace had assumed when he'd joined Whitebeard's gang that he would get a name for himself, outshine his old man and become a legend in his own right. Now, none of that mattered, and he quit the gang before his eighteenth birthday. Depression quickly strangled the life from Ace as he sought the bottle for comfort, much like his father so long ago. Roger's gentle dissuasions had proved fruitless in stopping Ace's pursuits into oblivion and any attempt his father made to stop him were quickly snuffed with sharp words from Ace's sharp tongue. Roger had no right to shame Ace for crimes he'd committed himself, after all.

Understanding dawned on the teen each time he slipped into drunkenness and welcomes the numbness it offered. He finally understood the pain his father had felt and the relief he'd stolen with each mouthful of cheap booze. Sometimes he woke up with Marco by his side, sometimes with a stranger, sometimes women but most often men. Roger made desperate attempts to pull his son from the vicious cycle of depression he'd fallen into himself, but Roger simply didn't understand. Sabo hadn't just been his best friend; he'd been his lover.

In his light headed musings, Ace realised his life in which he's only seen the bad, had been smattered with tiny miracles that had gotten him this far. Marco, Sabo, even that damn accident with his Dad... in some way had all been little miracles that had kept him going one more day and one more after that.

Ace swirled the glass of amber liquid before him and inhaled the bitter sweet scent. He'd never been much of a drinker before now and he'd seen in his own father what booze could do to people but nothing really seemed to matter anymore. He gulped down the contents of the glass and ordered another. It would be cheaper to drink at home, but here he wouldn't have to endure the worried glances his father shot him every five seconds.

Ace groaned as he felt something cool run over his face, down his neck and across his chest. He was ready to drift back into oblivion when he felt it again, and couldn't help but shiver and crack an eye open. The sight that greeted him wasn't completely unexpected. A stranger loomed above him, straddling his hips with a wet cloth in hand. Ace was sure he'd seen the kid around – maybe at the bar? Either way his head was pounding and his stomach rolling and he wasn't in the mood to humour some brat he'd had a quick fuck with the night before.

"You with me now?" the teen asked, looking a little annoyed, as though Ace were wasting his time. "I was getting worried."

"F'ck'off..." Ace rumbled back, voice hoarse and throat dry. He threw and arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight.

The kid's lips twisted into a pout at the reply. "You thirsty?"

Ace felt a glass pressed to his lips and greedily accepted the offered water. He drank the glass dry and stared up at the strange kid with bloodshot eyes.

"Better?" the stranger asked, a smile stretching across his childish features. Ace had to admit he was cute. Scruffy black hair on a boyish face, offset with a stunning smile.

"Yeah..." he finally answered in a gruff tone and sat up, knocking the boy from his perch on Ace's hips and onto the mattress. "Thanks."

"I was pretty worried, you were really sick!" the boy stated, emphasising just how sick Ace was with wild flails of his arms. "I thought you were gonna die." He continued solemnly and flopped back onto the bed. "I had to stay up _all_ night to make sure you didn't. My Gramps would be _so_ pissed if he found a _dead_guy in my apartment."

Ace didn't know whether it had been the nonchalant attitude or the sheer absurdity of what the kid was saying that set him off, but a loud bark of laughter escaped from his throat and dissolved into a soft chuckle. It felt good. The boy lifted his head with a wide smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

"You're cute when you laugh." He stated bluntly, and then grinned, a cheeky flash of white beneath his lips. "And even cuter when you smile!"

"That so?" Ace responded. He was used to compliments and knew he wasn't hard on the eyes, but for some reason, the same compliments he'd heard a hundred times before sparked a small burst of flattery in his chest.

"You should do it more often." The kid suggested.

Ace felt his heart sink again as he was reminded of just why it was he didn't smile. "Yeah."

"Did... I say something wrong?" the teen asked, head tilting gently as he noticed the change in Ace.

"What's your name, kid?"

"You don't remember?"

"I was pretty shitfaced."

"Huh..."

"Name?"

"Oh, right! It's Luffy."

"And how old are you?"

"Fifteen."

Ace exhaled and rubbed a hand over his face. This kid was young. _Really_young. Sure, he'd fucked around with Sabo, but he'd been young himself then.

"We didn't do anything." Luffy said, suddenly. Ace peeked out through the fingers covering his face and saw the kid was flopped out on the mattress again. "You passed out and threw up everywhere."

The freckled man felt a blush creep onto his face. "Eh... sorry."

"You were _really_drunk."

"Yeah."

"Does it really matter?" the boy asked suddenly, and upon Ace's confused look, elaborated. "How old I am."

"Ah... it's... kind of illegal."

"So?"

"So I could get arrested. Charged with rape."

"If they catch you."

That cheeky grin slipped across the boys face again and Ace felt his lips twitch upward. He had to admit, he liked this kid.

"So you're suggesting I risk getting locked up to have a little fun with you?" Ace asked.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take." The boy answered seriously.

Ace snorted. "You're weird."

"You stink."

"Touché."

Luffy smiled and pulled himself upright. He sat cross legged and gazed at Ace. "You were at Sabo's funeral."

Ace's jaw dropped. "H... How...?"

"He was my friend, too."

Strangely enough, Ace had never pictured Sabo having any other friends than himself. He swallowed dryly and blinked back the sting in his eyes.

"You're Ace, right?"

Ace nodded mutely and stared at the bed sheets. It had been a few months, but the pain was still fresh and raw.

"Sabo used to talk about you."

"He... he did?" Ace finally choked out.

"Mm!" Luffy responded and smiled. "He loved you a whole lot."

"I luh..." Ace swallowed back the lump in his throat as his lashes pooled with unshed tears. "I loved... him... a whole lot too."

"You wanna be friends, Ace?"

"...heh, sure."

"Friends with benefits...?" Luffy tried, and flashed that cheeky smile.

Ace laughed and sobbed at the same time. He shook his head in disbelief. This kid was a weird one for sure. "Maybe when you're older."

"You've gotta smile more though."

"...maybe."

"And drink less."

"Eh? Why?"

"Because I said so. Besides, Sabo wouldn't like it."

"You're a cocky little brat." Ace mumbled, though he had to admit, he'd never really thought of what Sabo would want. He'd assumed nothing, since he was dead, but suppose there was something after? Suppose Sabo was watching him now?

"I had to wash your clothes, because you were sick all over 'em." Luffy's voice piped up again, drawing Ace from his thoughts. "You wanna remember Sabo 'til they dry?"

Ace smiled sadly. He'd spent the last months try desperately to forget his dear friend. Remembering him didn't sound like such a bad idea.

"Sure."

Ace wondered if maybe his Mama sent him his little miracles from up in heaven. Miracles like Sabo and Marco. He wondered if maybe now Sabo sent him Luffy.


	25. Year 18 Unpaired

**Okay guys, the final pairing of AcexLuffy is here now, so if hints of AceLu creep into the unpaired chapters, you're just going to have to try to overlook it and forgive me. This is the pairing I've worked towards in the whole fic and that pairing is now the main focus of the fic. I will however do my best to keep the unpaired chapters as free of this as I can.**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<br>****Year 18 (Unpaired)**

Ace wondered if maybe Marco thought he was high, or if Sabo was looking down on him from heaven (for he had no doubt if there was an afterlife, that's where his friend would have gone) with that mixed look of confusion and amusement when Ace did something he didn't expect he would. After all, Ace wasn't exactly known for laughing. Since he'd met Luffy though, it seemed as though that was all he did.

It had been a few months since he'd seen anybody from the gang and Marco was the last one he'd expected to run into doing some late night shopping with Luffy. The blonde biker looked just as surprised to see him. He greeted Ace with the usual lift of the hand and a quiet, surprised 'oomf' as Ace grabbed him into a hearty hug. It was strange how quickly Luffy's affectionate behaviour rubbed off on you. Marco awkwardly returned the affectionate greet with a jerky pat to Ace's back. He hadn't 'hugged' Ace since he was a little kid and it felt strange. A commotion had sounded at the back of the store followed by a familiar cry that abruptly tore Ace's attention from his childhood idol. The freckled teen cast Marco aside like an old sock and moved to locate the source of the commotion with a soft call of 'Luffy?'. His worry had quickly dissolved though as an easy grin fell on his face. Marco's head tilted at the expression. He'd had to admit – he'd never seen Ace look so content. Luffy for his part had been far too busy having a barking match with a blind man's dog. Ace moved to intervene, smacked Luffy's nose and offered a sincere apology for his stupid little brother's behaviour. He'd suggested That he and Marco catch up over coffee the next day and before marco could accept or decline, he'd whisked the mystery kid out of the shop and left Marco standing there feeling more than a little confused.

So here they were. Marco wasn't really the type of man to frequent places like coffee shops or _normal_places. His leathers and piercings often attracted unwanted attention he could do without, but last nights run in with Ace had left a curiosity burning in him that wouldn't extinguish. He'd been sitting for only a few minutes when he spotted Ace waving to him from across the road. He lifted his hand in a motionless return of the gesture, eyebrow lifting gently as he spotted the kid from last night. Ace had a hold of the back of the boy's collar and dragged him along like a little boy might an overenthusiastic puppy. Just who was this kid?

"Yo." He greeted as the two finally joined him.

"Acccce!" Luffy whined. "I'm hungry! You said I could eat something when we got here...!"

"Be patient, ya whiney little brat!" Ace replied and grabbed him in a headlock before he ground his knuckles into the younger boy's head. Ignoring the yelps and struggles, Ace turned to Marco with a sheepish smile. "Yo! Sorry we're late!"

Marco leaned back in his chair and scrutinised the pair. Ace either didn't notice or didn't care as he made his excuses and continued to grind his knuckles into Luffy's head. The younger boy suddenly fell limp and Ace blinked in surprise and looked down at him. "Oi... you dead?" No response. "Yep, he's dead." Ace continued and released the boy. Luffy's flopped across his lap lifelessly and Ace sniggered softly. Luffy really never did cease to amuse him.

"So, who's the kid?" Marco asked, his voice soft and low.

"You mean this thing?" Ace asked and pointed to the lifeless heap of human spewed across his lap. "He's Luffy."

"Ahuh."

Ace's joyful demeanour dropped a little at Marco's lack of enthusiasm and he realised he should probably explain things a little better. They ordered drinks and a snack for Luffy as Ace began his story. He wasn't sure how long it took, but by the time he was finished he'd ordered three coffees for each of them, two hot chocolates for Luffy and an ungodly amount of snacks. Marco listened intently, sponging in every detail of Ace's story. His eyes drifted to Luffy now and again, distrust evident in his eyes. Luffy didn't seem to notice as he made himself comfortable using Ace's lap as a cushion for his upper body and somehow managed to squash his lower body onto the small armless chair he was sitting on. Ace rested a hand on his head and shushed him briskly when he tried to interrupt or point out traits on a passerby, like a mother hushing her child. Luffy grew bored eventually and drifted into a light doze which left Marco and Ace to chat in peace.

"So what's so special about him?" Marco asked, as he lifted his coffee to his lips.

"Nothing," Ace replied as he moved the hand resting on Luffy's head over the boys eyes to block out the sunlight and help him sleep. "I've just... never met anybody like him. He brings out the best in me. That's what my Dad and Ray say, anyways."

"Like how?" Marco pressed. He wasn't convinced. Just a few short months ago, Ace had been on the verge of killing himself through alcohol abuse after Sabo's death and now here he was laughing and chatting like some _normal_person that hadn't gone through all the shit he had in his short life.

"I dunno..." Ace sighed and scratched the back of his head with his free. He really didn't know what it was about Luffy that made him so special and ordinary at the same time. "He just makes me smile... and laugh. I've never laughed like I do with him. He's my best friend. I just wish... I wish Sabo was here too."

"Why? You have a new best friend now, don't you?" Marco answered, eyes narrowed in anger. He didn't like just how quickly Ace had 'moved on'.

"Don't be a fuckin' idiot, Marco!" Ace snapped back and turned his face away, glaring at the wall of a building across the street. "Sabo knew Luffy long before I did. He told him all about me and even told the stupid kid that he should look after me if something ever happened to him."

"...so he's looking after you now? Is that it?"

"You just don't get it. I didn't want him anywhere near me! He talks about Sabo like he's just around the corner and we can go see him any time we like... but he's not; and that hurt." Ace explained, his angry tone dissolving into a soft sigh. "I couldn't cope with that, but then Luffy came along. It's not like he sought me out either – I went to the bar _he_ was in and _I_ spoke to _him_. He figured out who I was by himself."

Marco's anger softened a little at Ace's explanation. "But still, you're frolicking around here like nothing bad has ever happened to you. This isn't you."

"You're wrong, Marco. This _is_ me." Ace replied, his tone firm with a resolve Marco had never seen. "All Sabo ever wanted was for me to be happy, and I didn't think I could ever give that to him. Luffy... he just lives from day to day, never wondering about tomorrow or wasting time with the past. I want to live like him, because he _lives_, Marco! He really lives instead of just existing. I want to live twice as much for both me _and_Sabo. I want to laugh and play and dance and cry and hurt twice as much in everything."

"And the past?"

"It's just a memory. What's done is done and I can't go back and change it, so why should I keep thinking about it?" Ace answered and then smiles fondly at the sleeping brat in his lap. "That was what Luffy told me – and he's right."

Marco stared at Ace intensely for a few seconds before he downed the rest of the coffee and jammed his hand in his pockets in search of a note to pay for them. "I guess he's fulfilling Sabo's wish and taking care of you then."

Ace beat him to it, and slipped a twenty bill onto the table. "I got it. I got a new job now." He explained and then laughed. "And hell no! This kid can't look after a cactus! It's a miracle he survived this long since Sabo... Anyway, I think Sabo looked after him before. He's got no parents and lives like a pig. _I'm_ the one that looks after _him_!"

"Yeah, I can see that." Marco replied and snorted softly as Ace grabbed the back of Luffy's shirt again and hoisted him into a sitting position like an oversized baby. "Where are you working?"

"It's just a small place." Ace answered distractedly as he coaxed a half asleep Luffy to climb onto his back. "Not far from my home, a small building firm. They need strong workers. Geez, this kid is like an oversized baby!"

Marco snorted softly. He'd rarely seen this gentle side of Ace and it fascinating to watch the care he took when dealing with his new friend. "I guess I'll see you around then."

"I'll be around." Ace replied with that foreign content smile. "I'm gonna get this big baby home. He lives with me and Dad now. He always does this because he doesn't sleep so good at night."

"Maybe I'll come round and see you some time then."

"I'd like that, Marco." Ace replied sincerely and stopped to offer a strained wave to the biker.

After a short moment, they turned away and headed their separate ways. Marco was left with a mixture of feelings in his heart. A few underlying suspicions still lingered about the boy Ace referred to as his 'little brother' but most of Ace's explanation had made sense and he was happy that for now at least, his long time friend's suffering seemed to be over. He couldn't help but feel a bit blue. He'd looked out for Ace since he was a little boy, and now he was grown up and moving on. The blonde biker snorted at his own jealousy and gave himself a soft punch to the head. He needed to stop acting like a mother hen. Ace was going to be alright now. Sabo knew what he was doing when he sent that kid to him. He'd given him someone that needed him and someone to protect; he'd given Ace someone to live for.


	26. Year 19 Paired

**The AceLu begins!**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 19 (Paired)<strong>

It had been almost an entire year since Luffy had wandered into his life, plonked himself into it and made himself comfortable as though he'd always belonged there. Ace could honestly say he'd never been happier. There were times when his temper got the better of him and he lashed out at the younger teen, but Luffy gave just as good as he got and Ace couldn't help but feel proud whenever he sported a black eye courtesy of his equally hot-tempered 'little brother' after a fight.

Life with Luffy was good, and now that the runt was sixteen, it was even better with the added bonuses. Their first time together had been somewhat awkward on Ace's part. He'd spent so much time goofing around with Luffy that it felt strange being intimate with him. Luffy for his part had remained relaxed always sporting that easy smile that eased Ace's worries. When the freckled man had found himself too bashful (something he never thought he would feel considering his early introduction to the world of sex) to start things, Luffy as forward as always had taken the lead. There was really only one problem: Luffy was a noisy lover.

The next morning in the kitchen there had been an awkward silence, tense and heavy between father and son. Roger had heard them – that much was obvious. Ace had prodded at his cereal with disinterest as Roger fixed himself a 'real mans' breakfast of eggs, bacon and other fat soaked goodies. Neither man dared to look at the other, though Luffy seemed oblivious to it all.

Roger had recovered marvellously over the last years and a lot of his strength had returned with daily exercise and encouragement from Rayleigh. Ace knew that he was stronger than his father now, though he couldn't help but harbour those old feelings of fear and doubt concerning his sexual preferences. His father was homophobic and he knew it. Originally his fears had orbited around the idea that Roger would harm him if he found out, or cast him out, but now with their relationship tenderly mended Ace found himself afraid that confronting his Dad about his fledgling relationship with Luffy would reveal his past with Sabo and Marco. Ace was a afraid that he might disappoint Roger.

The silence continued for a moment longer, and then Luffy (who had been gobbling down his own 'mans breakfast' courtesy of Roger) stood with his plate and headed for the sink. He clapped Roger's back in a friendly manner and with a cheeky grin said, "Sorry if we kept you up last night, old man."

Ace's jaw dropped with horror and in a stuttered mess attempted to stop Luffy from saying anything more. He didn't succeed.

"You might wanna get soundproofing in the walls or something, because we don't wanna keep you up every night."

Roger had flinched and pale faced turned to Luffy and said, "You're... gay?"

"Yep." Luffy replied, easy smile firmly in place.

"With... with my son?"

"Yep." Luffy answered and grinned. "You should let us know if you wanna join in some time. Ace might complain about sharing, but I think it'd be fun and he's _my_bitch."

With that said, Luffy left behind a stunned Roger and a blushing Ace. A heavy silence fell over them for a moment before Roger finally spoke.

"I guess you really do take after me." He mumbled, "I was your mother's bitch, too."


	27. Year 19 Unpaired

**A little bit of development for Ace.**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<br>****Year 19 (Unpaired)**

Therapy was something Ace had never liked the idea of. Only crazy people went to therapy in his mind and he certainly didn't consider himself crazy. He was a little messed up, sure, but definitely not crazy. Luffy didn't really get it either. He was one of those simple people that lived in a world of black and white with no grey. You either did or you didn't; yes or no. Ace envied him for that. It had been Roger's suggestion, and though Ace hated the idea, the quiet request from his father had been one he couldn't refuse. He figured he'd go to a couple sessions and then call it quits. He was wrong.

Though things had started off very tight lipped, Ace soon found his tongue loosening to his therapist, telling them things he'd told only Sabo or Luffy. It felt good... really good. Her name was Nami and she certainly wasn't what he had expected. She took no bullshit from anyone and she wasn't cheap either. On week six, she suggested Ace get a pet. She said it would be good in teaching him responsibility and how to show affection. Ace said he had Luffy. She said though Luffy certainly did make a good pet, he was still somewhat independent. She wanted him to have to care for something completely dependent on him. Ace complied.

guinea Pigs hadn't been his first choice. Luffy wanted a puppy, though that was quickly snuffed out by a cuff round the head and stern 'No' from Roger. Wandering around the pet shop as they were Ace suspected they look quite the spectacle. He wandered from animal to animal. Roger had specifically said no cats or dogs; they were too much trouble. That left birds, rodent, reptiles and fish. Ace bypassed the fish – they would be dead in a week. Birds were too noisy for his liking. That left rodents and reptiles. A large snake tank caught his eye and he smiles excitedly as the snake within coiled slowly around it's frozen mouse meal.

"Don't even think about it." Roger stated as he walked by and headed for the rodents area. "Get a hamster."

"Aw, but Dad...!"

"I said no."

Ace pouted and continued on into the rodent area. Personally, he thought mice and rats were a bit creepy. Hamsters were a little furrier but they bit. Then he saw them. Luffy was stood next to their cage eating a packed of crisps as they huddled in their cage behind him and nibbled on their own snacks. The resemblance was quite uncanny and Ace just couldn't help but smirk. He ended up taking them home.

The freckled man quickly found guinea pigs didn't really do much. They sat there and ate and... went to the toilet. They weren't very entertaining, but they were cute and they didn't bite. He found petting them quite therapeutic and prided himself in taking care of HIS pets. He had one male and one female. The male was large with long, fluffy tan fur. He squealed for food and attention and nibbled on the bars to get noticed. Ace called him Thatch. The female was more reclusive. She huddled in corners away from Ace and Thatch. Her tan fur was straight and shorter than the males and she was barely half the size of her cage-mate. Ace called her Adriann. Thatch followed her around the cage and Ace often found him snuggling with her. He wondered idly if maybe they'd have guinea-piglets. Luffy sometimes hung around the cage and fussed over the little rodents too, but quickly grew tired when they did nothing but eat and sleep. Nami had been right though. Caring for his little pets had stirred up new emotions in Ace.

At their fifteenth session, Nami suggested that Ace go back to school. He had told her he was unhappy with construction work and wanted more money in his life, but scoffed at her idea of returning to study. He'd never liked school and never done well there. He didn't like being bossed around by teachers or deadlines. He liked to do things in his own time. As usual though, Nami got her way and the following week, Ace found himself walking the halls of the local college, checking out the possible classes. Nothing seemed to catch his interest, but just when he thought it useless something happened.

Ace found a love in art. He'd passed by the local class in search of a friend Luffy had made in the college called Usopp, and upon entering through the doors had found himself in a world of fantasy and creation that brought out a passion in him he didn't know existed.

To his surprise his family and friends had all been supportive of his decision to follow his passion for art rather than his drive for money. They wanted him to be happy after all and Ace found very quickly that creating art did make him happy. He felt foolish at first, surrounded by talented artists like Usopp and professionals that made his pictures look like a five years olds doodles. He learned quickly though and his technique developed little by little. Under Usopp's tuition he learned the basics and developed his own style. He kept a sketch pad with him at all times and doodles relentlessly from the dining table to the local park. He found a love for both drawing and other medias. He loved working with fire, manipulating the flame to create colours and textures in his creations. It felt good to create rather than destroy.

By the end of his first class, several canvases stood proudly amongst his creations, though the biggest held pride of place in the centre; a freckled woman with blonde hair and kind eyes . It wasn't perfect, but then again, neither was his memory. As Ace watched those he held dear inspect his art with enthusiasm and Roger's eyes shine brightly at the sight of her face, he knew things weren't perfect, but he felt maybe it was okay.

Ace didn't really feel like he needed therapy sessions anymore and told Nami so the next time they met, their thirty-eighth session. Nami smiled and disagreed. She suggested that perhaps their weekly therapy sessions should continue but perhaps she could call around his house and conduct them over a cup of coffee and movie with him and Luffy. Ace smirked and his little circle of friends grew bigger.


	28. Year 20 Paired

**A little bit of love.**

-

**Growing Up With Roger**  
><span>**Year 20 (Paired)**

A blood curdling shriek tore Ace from his dreams and he bolted upright in bed. His heart hammered in his chest as he shook the sleep from his mind and scrambles to the boy beside him in bed.

It had been like this as long as he had known Luffy. It wasn't every night, but it was most. Sometimes it would be like tonight where Luffy's piercing cries and violent thrashing tore Ace from his rest and he would desperately try to wake and console the other. Often times it didn't work. Luffy would curl against him, nails biting into Ace's skin and tears soaking his shoulder. He didn't know what Luffy was afraid of, but he trembled so hard it made Ace shake. The mornings after were always the same. Luffy either didn't seem to remember, or didn't choose to. His night terrors never crept into his daily endeavours and Ace (feeling selfish for it) was grateful for that. Luffy had been his rock and reason for living since he'd met him. The kid was a pest, he always got himself into trouble that Ace would have to bail him out of and he ate them out of house and home, but he was Luffy so that was to be expected.

Ace knew something had happened in Luffy's past to have caused his sleeping troubles, but any enquiries he'd made had been firmly squashed like a cockroach in a cake shop. Luffy didn't want to talk about it and in his waking hours it didn't seem to bother him. His often daily naps were never interrupted by whatever demons lurked in his history and so Ace could only assume they were brought on by the night. You would never imagine Luffy had such troubles if you saw him dozing of an afternoon.

Some nights Ace would wake to find Luffy sat up in bed beside him, figure hunched in a contemplative silence. His body looked pale bathed in the moonlight and it gave him an unearthly feel. Luffy's easy smile was nowhere in sight on those nights, replaced by a sad, thoughtful expression. Oddly, it wasn't disturbing. It was a whole new side to Luffy that he rarely saw, but then the boy would notice his sleepy audience and that silly smile would stretch across moonlit skin. It was never fake, Ace knew because that smile was all his. Luffy would flop back beside him with the soft excuse of 'can't sleep' and cuddle up close to Ace. The freckled man had no delusions that as soon as he drifted back to sleep, Luffy would resume his quiet contemplations. The night brought out a softer, more delicate side to the hyper boy, but it was a side Luffy wasn't willing to share just yet, and so he barricaded the emotions behind that easy smile. Ace had no doubt in time he would break through to those layers of his little onion, but he was content to leave Luffy's past shrouded in darkness. He didn't need to know what made Luffy who is to know he loved him.

He held Luffy close to him as the boy's shrieking died to a quiet whimper, and when he seemed half roused from whatever terrors plagued him in his sleep, Ace lifted him gently into his arms. It was the same every time. Roger peeked from the bedroom, a gentle concern shining in his eyes for Luffy. The boy was practically another son to him now.

"He okay...?"

It was the same question every time, followed by the same answer.

"He will be."

Ace made his way downstairs and deposited his dopey luggage into one of the dining table chairs. He moved swiftly in his nightly routine and fixed the boy a hot chocolate and a weak coffee for himself. They sat together in a sleepy silence as Luffy sipped his chocolate and slowly woke up. After a few moment, he lifted his mug and shifted from the chair to Ace's lap, pining for a cuddle. Ace happily obliged and placed a gentle kiss atop Luffy's forehead, lingering for a moment. They finished their drinks together and sat for a while until Luffy broke the silence.

"You should go back to bed." He mumbled and rubbed at one of his eyes sleepily. Ace had classes in the morning after all.

"Stay with me until I'm asleep?" Ace responded, and gently squeezed Luffy's middle. The boy nodded and Ace smiled, he knew sleep wouldn't come to Luffy until his nap that afternoon, but he'd become some accustomed to Luffy's lithe body tangled with his own at night that he found it nigh on impossible to sleep without him.

They shuffled groggily back to bed together and crawled under the covers, huddling close. Ace sighed contentedly and inhaled the scent that simply was Luffy. He knew Luffy would only linger until he drifted off, but that was okay, because the brat would still be the first thing he saw in the morning. Neither of them spoke the words to each other, though it was obvious it was there.

"I love you."


	29. Year 20 Unpaired

**A little bit of remembering.**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 20 (Unpaired)<strong>

Ace sometime wondered how things might have turned out had his mother lived. He no longer harboured the heavy bitterness towards his father or anybody else when he remembered her, though it made him sad as he realised those memories were growing hazier with each attempt. He and Roger visited her grave each week, and though Roger stayed dutifully before the stone baring his wives name, Ace now found he had two graves to visit. He didn't want Sabo to get lonely after all. He would often visit Sabo first and join his father later.

Luffy had suggested to him that talking to Sabo and Rouge might help him grieve. Ace had laughed the idea off – it was stupid in his eyes. They were gone and they couldn't hear him anymore. He preferred to spend his time spent before their places of rest in a quiet moment of remembrance. He didn't want to forget either of them.

Now sat here cross-legged with the wet grass soaked by the morning's sprinklers dampening his jeans, he wondered. He might have met Sabo if Rouge had survived the birth of his baby sister – they were in the same class after all. He probably would have met him sooner! He would have had a little brat around the house to attend to. He wondered what baby Anne would have been like. He'd never really dealt with any babies before. The thought of being responsible for something so small and fragile frightened him, and so he politely declined any offers he got to interact with infants.

Until recently baby Anne had been a mere name in passing. He hadn't thought much on the circumstances surrounding his mother's death; simply the fact that she had died. He remembered the deep bitterness he'd felt towards her upon the adults sketchy explanations way back then. As far as he had been concerned, that baby had killed his mother and he hated her. Now it was different though. He was a grown man of twenty and today his little sister would have been thirteen. It stirred a foreign sorrow in him. His mother despite her early demise had lived to marry and birth her own child. She had smiled and danced and laughed. This baby... his poor little sister; she hadn't lived at all. He stirred uncomfortably as he felt his eyes sting with unshed tears. He waited for the lump lodged in his throat to ease before he tried to speak.

"Dad?"

"Mm?"

"...what happened to Mama? And Anne?" he had hesitated for a moment, reluctant to revive the grief his father had never recovered from.

Roger was quiet for a moment and Ace wondered if he should have asked at all. When the moustached man cleared his throat softly, it startled Ace. He hadn't realised he'd been holding his breath until then. When Roger answered, his voice was soft.

"You've never spoke her name before."

Ace turned then to look at Roger suddenly feeling seven years old all over again. "You... you never told me... how she died."

Roger sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He eased himself down onto the damp grass, opposite Ace. "There were complications."

"I know that," Ace replied with an impatient clip to his tone. "But why?"

"Ace..." Roger sighed again realising his son wasn't going to let this go. Ace was wearing a mirror of his own stubborn face. "Your Mama loved it when you pulled that face. She said it made you look like me."

Ace blinked, shocked by the sudden change of subject and huffed softly, a light rosy tint to his cheeks. "You didn't answer my question."

"...your Mama, she was a sick person Ace."

"Sick how?"

"She was fragile... weak. Had been as long as I knew her." Roger explained. "She told me she was terribly ill as a child and it left her body frail."

Ace nodded, eyes boring into Roger's intensely. It made the older man uncomfortable and oddly reminded him of that fateful day Ace had asked him about babies. He would have to choose his words carefully.

"She wanted children so badly. She told me it was her dream to have a little boy and a little girl. The doctors advised her against it. She was just so frail..."

"But... I was okay, and Mama was fine after me, right?" Ace asked.

"She got lucky." Roger answered, face serious now. "We agreed that once was lucky enough and the moment she set eyes on you, I could see how much she loved you."

"But, she got pregnant again, right?"

"A mistake," Roger answered, and then smiled and shook his head. "No, not a mistake. A baby is never a mistake. Anne... she was an accident. We did everything we were supposed to, but I guess somewhere along the line there was a faulty condom or a forgotten pill."

Ace's face blossomed crimson as his father spoke of he and Rouge's sex life. He was no stranger to sex himself, and yet somehow it didn't seem logical that his Dad and _especially_not his Mama could ever possibly do the same thing. His memories of Rouge remained fixed at that of his seven year old self – he knew no different and in that frame of mind it just didn't seem possible. Roger laughed as he spotted the blush. Ace coughed and tried to distract the older man.

"So Mama... she died because her body was 'frail', right?" Ace asked, swallowing back the growing lump in his throat. "So what happened to Anne?"

"Anne..." Roger bowed his head and shook it softly. "I didn't expect you to understand back then, but you'd never spoken about it since. Your Mama went into labour too soon, son."

Ace's eyes widened, lips parting slightly in shock. He'd never been told anything like that before.

"H... How soon?" Ace stuttered out. He felt as though somebody had sucker punched him.

"Your mother had just reached her 26th week – not even seven months." Roger explained, "She was so tiny – your Mama struggled to eat during the pregnancy because she was always feeling sick."

"So she was... I-I mean... when Mama gave birth, baby Anne was already..." Ace couldn't bring himself to say the word 'dead'. It felt so unfair that this poor little baby didn't have a chance. It scared him because that could have been him.

"No..."

"N-No?"

"Our little Anne, she was fighter Ace. She was so, so tiny, so weak like her Mama. They both fought so hard. Little Anne just wasn't ready for this world. She left it just a week and six days after she came in. I was holding her hand."

Ace's lip quivered as tears glazed his eyes. "A...And Mama?" he choked out.

"She was tired and frail after the birth, but everybody thought she was okay. I was so focussed on our little daughter, I didn't see the signs. Your Mama had a bad infection, Ace. She collapsed a few days after... and she never woke up."

The two men sat in silence save for the occasional sob as tears flowed down their faces, dripped from their chins and splattered into the grass. Finally, after a long moment, Ace whispered another question.

"When Mama... when she collapsed," he muttered softly, thoughtfully. "Did she die?"

Roger's brow knit in confusion but after a few second he shook his head. "No."

"Did Anne die first?"

Roger nodded. Ace smiled sadly.

"Mama's so kind." He whispered and focussed dark, tearful eyes on his father. "She knew I had you but baby Anne didn't have anybody, so she knew she had to go take care of her."

Roger's eyes widened and then narrowed painfully as he nodded sharply. Ace's childish explanation washed a fresh wave of pain over him and he choked out a sob, hunching over as he pressed his palms to his eyes. Ace scooted closer without hesitation and wrapped his arms around his Dad. Shakily, he whispered, "And she knew I'd take care of you, too."

The two cried together for a while, and when the tears dried up they clung to one another for a while longer. As they finally pulled apart, Ace glanced to worn grave that bore his Mama's name. It had been thirteen years...

"Dad?"

"Mm?"

"How come you never talk to Mama?"

Roger looked at Ace and smiled sadly. "She knew me inside out. There's nothing I could say that she doesn't already know."

Ace digested his answer quietly. It was true with Sabo as well. Sabo had known him better than he'd known himself. The freckled man glanced to the tiny headstone beside his mothers. Anne was a person he would never get to know, but he felt a gentle respect for the baby sister he never met. She had fought for her life braver than he ever had. She was a person he would want to know, and if there was some kind of afterlife, he didn't want to stand before her as a stranger.

Ace shuffled over a couple feet to the ground that held his sister and breathed in deeply. He exhaled through his mouth nervously as Roger watched his son as he adorned that stubborn look his Mama always loved.

"Anne, my name is Ace, and I'm your big brother."


	30. Year 21 Paired

**Just one more chapter to go after this one :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<strong>  
><strong>Year 21 (Paired)<strong>

Red suited Ace, Luffy decided. Sat cross-legged on the floor as he watched the silent confrontation between Roger and Ace unfold before him, he nodded to himself. Yes, red definitely suited Ace. A mischievous chuckle erupted from his throat and the two men's heads whipped around to face him so fast he was surprised they didn't pop off.

"Ace looks pretty, ne?" the dark haired teen asked, and grinned at Roger.

Roger stared open-mouthed at Luffy and then his lips flapped open and closed wordlessly for a few seconds before he turned back towards Ace and his jaw clamped shut. Ace stood frozen and squeaked as Luffy rose to his feet and wrapped him in a hug. He wondered just how the hell he'd let Luffy talk him into _cross-dressing_of all things! Clad in the sparkling red satin dress littered with sequins and glitter, he felt an odd mixture of shame and satisfaction. Roger had accepted his sexuality without consequence, but this just seemed like too much for his normally homophobic Dad to handle. A reassuring squeeze from Luffy did nothing to ease his fears and only furthered his desire to wring the little bastard's neck for ever talking him into this.

"He looks pretty, ne Pops?" Luffy pressed, and Ace clenched his fists.

"...beautiful." Roger finally answered, voice somewhat strained and cheeks tinted pink, but eyes settled steadily on all of Ace, filled with acceptance. The freckled man felt his cheeks burn with the compliment as his own jaw fell in shock, a mirror of his father's expression when he'd walked into the room moments before. Roger nodded curtly; accepting but still shocked by the whole scene, he took the opportunity to flee the room in two long strides.

"See?" Luffy said smugly, "I told you it'd be okay, didn't I?"

Ace hummed a positive response, too shocked to form words. Luffy kissed his neck and grinned cheekily. "Try on the next one, okay?"

Ace barked out a soft laugh of disbelief. Luffy's kinks were weird as hell but he had to admit, squeezed into the skin tight satin with Luffy looking at him with hungry eyes... he felt sexy.

"Okay."

They didn't see Roger again until dinner that night. Mealtimes had become a shared event in their house. There was a gentle undercurrent of awkwardness, but other than that the night continued as any other. The topic of the day's discovery was even brought up and laughed about. Roger joked about having thought he'd never have to buy another dress or pair of heels again and even asked Ace's shoe size. When Ace replied with the simple response 'same as you', Luffy's eyes lit up with that mischievous sparkle Ace loved and hated.

"Ne, Pops." He called and propped his elbow on the table, head resting in his palm. "You should try on Ace's heels too. I bet Ray would like that."

Roger made a good impression of a geyser as he sprayed his mouthful of beer over Ace and Luffy. Ace's eyes were widened comically as he blinked at the beer foam running from his dad's nose, the residue from the drinking dripping from his own chin. He burst into a sudden and loud laughter, gasping for each breath as Roger spluttered and ranted wildly at the accusation that he and Rayleigh could possibly, _ever_, _**ever**_be like _that_! Ace continued to laugh and smacked the table as his head dropped softly to the table, body doubled over and his guffaws died to sniggers. Luffy just kept grinning, tongue peeking out, and gripped gently between his teeth teasingly. As Roger paused in his panicked ranting, the two took the chance to sober up. Roger looked from one to the other helplessly.

"He not... right? Ray...I mean... he's not..." he pleaded weakly, "Right?"

Luffy and Ace exchanged a knowing glance and shared a cheeky smile.

"Thanks for dinner Pops!" Luffy chirped.

"Thanks for the beer shower, too Dad." Ace followed, and they both stood.

"But... but if he was... I mean..."

"He's not married." Luffy said as he tucked their chairs back in.

"Never seen him with a girlfriend." Ace said, as he carried their plates to the sink.

"Always wants to spend time with you." Luffy said, as he grasped Ace's hand in his own.

"Stood by you through thick and thin." Ace said, as they made their way to the stairs.

"He pretty much lives here, even when it _isn't_football season." Luffy said, and they turned to face Roger before they ascended the stairs.

"Beer shower was great Dad, but kinda gross." Ace laughed. "We're gonna go shower."

"Together!" Luffy chirped as he trotted up the stairs and dragged Ace behind him. "So if you wanna crap, hold it unless you're gonna join us!"

Ace playfully spanked Luffy on their way up for his constant cheekiness and the two disappeared into the bathroom. Roger was left with the thrum of the muffled running water upstairs and his noisy thoughts. He and Ray – a couple? Ha! No, surely not. That was stupid... right? He and Ray, they were manly men! But then, Ace was a manly man in his eyes and he was still... but that couldn't be the same for Roger... could it? He wearily shook his head and wondered how the hell this kid of his could surprise him anymore.


	31. Year 21 Final

**Apologies to those who have been reading only the unpaired versions of this little fic, but the last chapter will also be paired. The ultimate goal as mentioned before was leading towards and AceLu finale and that's what it will be in the final chapter although, I've tried to keep it to a minimum and there is no physical affection, only vague mention of being together. If you don't want to read the final chapter, I understand. I'm glad you've enjoyed it until now and thanks for reading!**

* * *

><p><strong>Growing Up With Roger<br>****Year 21 (Final)**

Ace was late when a knock at the door broke his frenzied rush of collecting his things needed for the day. He ran to answer it and cursed loudly when he saw nobody there. He was about to slam it shut again muttering about 'damn kids' when a hesitant tug on his trouser leg stopped him in his tracks. At his feet sat a small child. The child thrust a crumpled piece of paper up at him with a grumpy pout. Ace blinked at the child stupidly before he remembered just how late he was and snatched the paper from her little fingers. If this was another prank, he was gonna hunt those brats down and give them the biggest spanking of their short lifetime. His eyes scanned over the messy scrawl and the lower his eyes followed the text on the page, the paler his face grew.

He called in sick.

When Roger came home he was surprised to hear the low thrum of his son's voice in the living room, speaking with another. He'd only been gone an hour and Ace was running late when he'd left. He'd thought his son would have been gone by now. He dropped the bags of shopping in the kitchen which alerted Ace to his return. In moments his usually calm and collected son was babbling frantically in front of him. Roger tried to make sense of the jumbled mess of an explanation Ace gave, but with his son's frantic gestures toward to living room, he decided to see whatever the problem was first hand.

Roger tilted his head at the sight of the small child sat on their big sofa and asked, "Who's this?"

"My daughter."

In his younger days, Roger probably would have panicked like his son. Instead he studied the girl. She couldn't have been more than four years old and her resemblance with ace was startling. Her hair was cropped and her skin grubby. She looked as though she hadn't had a decent meal for a while, but despite it all, the dark hair, sleepy eyes and smattering of freckles was unmistakable. If Ace hadn't identified her as a girl, he would have thought her a clone of his own son at that age right down to the grumpy pout. Roger chuckled and turned to Ace and said, "You used to wear that face."

"This isn't funny, damn it!" Ace yelled as his old temper flared to life, fuelled by fear.

The small child flinched and her eyes widened in fright. Roger's own narrowed and with that dangerous, quiet anger, he spoke evenly to Ace, "Calm down. You're scaring her."

Ace's temper deflated like a pierced balloon and he leaned back against the wall. "What do I do now?" he mumbled. Roger wondered if he wanted an answer or was simply thinking out loud. He gave one regardless.

"We should make she's yours." He stated.

"And if she is?" Ace asked.

"We keep her. No arguments."

Ace heaved a sigh and rubbed his hands over his face. He wondered how Luffy would react to their new guest.

As it turned out, Luffy took to fatherhood like a fish to water. He was the first to elicit laughter in the girl with his foolish antics and the first to gain her trust with his own childish demeanour. Ace found himself calmer as he watched the two interact and he pushed the panic away as he wondered for the first time if he could really _be_a father to this little girl. She didn't even seem to like him. Luffy though wasn't about to give him the choice. The first time they spoke of it, he'd declared that whether the child was or was not Ace's daughter, she was staying. Any protest Ace made fell on deaf ears, and so Ace didn't really feel any surge of emotion when the results came back positive. She was his daughter by blood, but it seemed she was Luffy's 'baby girl' first.

He had to admit, he enjoyed watching them together. Luffy doted on the child, as did Roger. Ace found himself keeping distance with the four year old, unsure how to interact with her and it worked well like that. He was the 'discipline' daddy and the voice of reason. That wasn't to say he didn't love her. As the days morphed into weeks then weeks stretched into months, he found that this tiny child that had stolen his looks had started to fill that void left behind by the losses he'd suffered in his lifetime. That wasn't to say it was no longer there, or those he had lost were forgotten. He often spoke with Beatrix (or Trixie, as Luffy had fondly dubbed her) about Uncle Sabo, Auntie Ann and the Grandma Rouge she would never meet. His bonding time with her came at night, when he would tuck her into bed and enjoy a quiet conversation as she wound down from the day and prepared for sleep. Sometimes he would tell her stories, adaptations of his own life spliced with fantasy and fairy tales. She didn't know the truth behind them of course – Ace often wondered whether he would tell her when she was older.

Roger liked to watch Ace and Luffy as they raised his little Beetroot (his own nickname for the child). He watched Ace stumble over his own mistakes and fumble with explanations and understanding. He watched with a great satisfaction as Ace tiptoed around the mistakes made by Roger in his own upbringing. Roger also held no doubt in his mind that his son carried with him the weaknesses he himself did. Luffy had been the chemical in Ace's existence that turned his life around and Trixie the catalyst that sped up his recovery. Were something ever to happen to Luffy though, Roger dreaded the thought of what would become of Ace. Life could be very cruel, and it had been to his precious son. Roger hoped it would never come down to it, but if something should ever happen, he would make sure his little Beetroot didn't suffer as a result, like Ace did.

"Ne, Gramps!" the little girl called from the doorway. She wore a look of impatience. "Hurry up, would ya? I wanna go see Marco!"

Roger snorted softly. Being with Trixie was like looking at Ace and listening to Luffy. "I'm coming, I'm coming." He grumbled as he made his way outside. Trixie was on him like glue and with a little help from Luffy, clambered up his tall frame to his shoulders. Ace locked up the flat and jogged to catch up. He watched his father and daughter interact with a gentle mix of fondness and jealousy. His own childhood had not been so sugar coated, but now in the position his father played so many years ago he felt he finally understood what it had been like. The moustached man glanced back at him and offered him a cheeky grin that Ace mirrored.

Growing up with Roger really wasn't so bad.


End file.
